


Fire Emblem: Eternal Slumber

by ThoseWhoDwell



Series: Fire Emblem: Eternal Slumber Universe [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, Original Work
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Domestic Fluff, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Epic, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Feelings, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, It's definitely more about the kids than the adults, Lesbian Sex, Lesbian relationship(s), M/M, Might be indicative of something bad..., Oral Sex, People do be fuckin occasionally, Politics, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Potential Minor Canon Divergence, Romance, Sappy as fuck, Sequel, Sex, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Smut, This one goes out to all my homies with awkward parental relationships, Timeline stuff/Discussion, Too many of my stories involve alcohol, Trying to pay attention to most of the characters but it focuses on some more than others, Unofficial Sequel, Vaginal Fingering, War, Yeah this one has a little bit of everything, battles, everyone wants to be happy :(, parental drama, personal lives of all the shepherds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:54:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 49,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseWhoDwell/pseuds/ThoseWhoDwell
Summary: One year after the events of Awakening, the Ylissean alliance knows peace. The Shepherds have mostly settled down, and even the children are beginning to enjoy their second chance at a happy life. However, a new overseas threat looms in the distance, approaching Ylisse with suspicious intent and the terrifyingly real possibility of another disastrous war. (My take on an Awakening Sequel w/original villains)
Relationships: Azur | Inigo/Marc | Morgan, Callum | Kellam/Olivia, Chrom/Soiree | Sully, Cynthia/Gerome (Fire Emblem), Degel | Kjelle/Serena | Severa, Guire | Gaius/Sumia, Henry/Nono | Nowi, Licht | Ricken/Miriel, Liz | Lissa/Lon'qu, Lucina/Noire (Fire Emblem), Maribelle/Nn | Nah, My Unit | Reflet | Robin/Tiamo | Cordelia, Riviera | Libra/Sallya | Tharja, Say'ri/Frederick, Serge | Cherche/Viaur | Virion, Sort | Stahl/Wyck | Vaike
Series: Fire Emblem: Eternal Slumber Universe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1752313
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	1. Perfect Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look inside the lives of the Ylisseans one year after the fall of the Fell Dragon Grima. Whilst the Shepherds attend one of Chrom's monthly get-togethers, a mysterious envoy from across the ocean draws near.

Everyone in the household was scurrying about like madmen save for Cordelia. It was hardly the first time she had been the sole 'calm and collected' member of her family in a given moment of stress, but it was still something she couldn't get used to.

"Mom where's my dress? The red one?" Severa impatiently asked from upstairs.

"Left side of your closet, sweetie!" she called up, "I washed it this morning, but I didn't want to lay it on your bed and get it all wrinkled again!"

"Oh," she called down meekly, "T-Thanks mom,"

Cordelia smiled, content and satisfied she detected genuine appreciation from her eldest daughter. One of her favorite parts about how things had changed so much over the past year was that she and Severa now got along… most of the time, anyway.

Robin, draped by his disheveled tactician's robe, rushed down the stairs through the walkway and into the kitchen, where Cordelia sat at the table as footsteps seemingly skittered all throughout the house despite it only having four occupants. He quickly hung up said robe on the coathanger in the hall, walking to Cordelia to help him finish buttoning-up a shirt since his hands were always a bit jittery.

He stopped briefly just before she could stand up, looking at her blankly.

"Wow," he said with a hushed, breathy exclamation of awe, "You look-"

"Tired?" she said with a weary smile, her eyelashes fluttering as she stood up to fix her husband's shirt.

"Phenomenal," he corrected.

She currently opted for a simple, teal dress she bought just because the tailor back in Ylisstol told her it contrasted beautifully with her crimson hair. Finally getting a chance to wear it at one of Chrom's monthly gatherings of the Shepherds was something she'd been looking forward to, but she also enjoyed wearing it just to see Robin look at her like that. Aloof and clueless though he often was, he was simply incapable of making her feel unwanted.

Robin opted for a sleek vest and waistcoat, which she found looked rather dashing on him. His often unkempt medium-length dark brown hair was washed for a change, still a bit messy, but a far cry from its 'natural' state. It was odd seeing him in more snazzy attire, as he was a simple, utilitarian man who fared more on the side of comfort than style. Clearly her shopping trip with Lissa and Maribelle had yielded dividends.

Next to come down the steps and enter the kitchen was Morgan, who was wearing a set of clothes that were, bar the color palette, near-identical to her father's. Her waistcoat draped down a bit in the back and generally complimented her figure in a way her father's didn't, but it suited her rather well.

"Ta-da!" the strawberry-haired girl exclaimed as she jumped into the room, back leaning against the wall with her head tilted up and one arm in the air, as if she were about to grab someone and do the tango.

"You look very handsome dear," Cordelia encouraged, Robin gave her a sly wink.

A very flushed Severa finally arrived down the steps, wearing a red silk dress and two matching bows she did her dark brown pigtails in.

"Think maybe I should've gotten this an inch wider," she grumbled, "Feel like my waist is being strangled,"

It definitely clung to her a bit more tightly than a dress ought to, but she still wore it rather well.

"But you look so good!" Morgan exclaimed with enthusiasm, "And the bows are so cute! I told you it would pull the whole look together,"

"I feel a bit like a show pony," Severa said, slightly disgruntled.

"You do look gorgeous, sweetheart," Robin complimented, "We can always take it back to the tailor and get it altered if it's a bit snug,"

"Yeah, that would be ideal… at least I look good," she murmured to herself as she placed her hands on her hips and tilted her head back, examining it up and down.

"Damn right you do," Morgan slyly encouraged, "Kjelle will be alllll over you,"

Severa's face flushed red enough to match the dress she wore as Morgan taunted her, making kissy faces and sticking out her tongue.

"Oh pipe down you little gremlin," Severa said as her eyes narrowed.

Robin pecked Cordelia on the cheek as she finished straightening out his clothes, looking out the small square window in the front door of their home to see that their carriage arrived out front.

After living such a tumultuous life, and after fighting through a war (two in the case of Robin and Cordelia), they all grew to enjoy these get-togethers more than anything, even if it meant them having to leave their incredibly spacious house, courtesy of the Exalt's estate, naturally. Once things settled, Sully and Chrom had the idea to provide homes for all the shepherds and their children out in the Ylissean countryside. A few acres of land each, but all within walking distance of the other, just a few miles outside Ylisstol. The houses were large, but had a humility about them as well, plenty of space and accommodations but nothing ostentatious. Mostly just large, two-level cottages with however many bedrooms were needed. They had fought long and hard for peace, so they all figured it was best they truly enjoy it.

And enjoy it they would.

"Ride's here," Robin said, turning to take Cordelia's hand.

Morgan took note of the gesture, and turned to face Severa, offering her arm to escort her forward.

"My lady," Morgan said in a comically exaggerated lower tone of voice.

Severa rolled her eyes.

"Gods you're worse than Owain," she said, reluctantly taking hold of her little sister's arm as she walked forward.

Cordelia smiled as she watched them walk forward, a spring in Morgan's step and Severa's now limp posture causing her and her husband to lightly chuckle.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Bring it on," Cordelia said with a smirk, "Hope they're breaking out the expensive wine again because I'm going to get trashed tonight,"

Robin laughed.

"Damn Cordy what's gotten into you?" he chuckled as they headed to the door.

"Just haven't cut loose in a while," she hummed, "I'm still getting used to being able to… but I like it,"

"I like it too," he said with a confident smirk.

She felt her cheeks warm up.

"Yeah I bet you do," she said, "You really liked it that one night three months ago. Don't get your hopes up. I'll have to get into a drinking contest with Sumia again to get that far and I don't know if my liver can take that,"

"A man can dream, can't he?" he said.

He was being uncharacteristically smooth tonight. Someone had to be giving him lessons. Virion? Probably. She'd have to smack him if she ever got that confirmed, even if she was secretly grateful.

"Love you Robin," she said, turning to him right as the girls got onto the porch and they got to the door.

"I-I love you too," Robin said, somewhat caught off-guard by just how plainly affectionate she was being. She was by no means a cold woman, but something about her tonight made his heart flutter.

She kissed him on the lips very briefly, and then tilted her head towards the carriage.

"Our chariot awaits," she said.

* * *

"Does it ever get strange? Looking at yourself?" Sully asked.

Lucina was leaning on the doorframe to her younger self's room when her mother, who had finally got dressed for the evening, passed by on her way outside. She nearly jumped from fright when her mother spoke, as she was too enthralled by being lost in thought, looking at Noire as she played with baby Luci.

"Gods be damned mother, you're far too good at being stealthy these days," she said.

Sully suppressed a light giggle at her daughter's brief distress. She pointed to her feet, which currently adorned a nice pair of sandals.

"If you think I'd be caught dead in those clackity-ass noisy heels, you don't know me very well, hon," she teased.

"Of course," Lucina said, finding a kinship in her mother's tomboyish tendencies.

She looked back into the room as Noire began to play peekaboo with the now eighteen-month-old Lucina, still the first of the children that had been born in this timeline. Seeing the tousled blue hair, the brand in her eye, and her face that slowly resembled her own more and more every day was certainly surreal, but she couldn't say it was negative in any way. Since it seemed like the children from another time were there to stay, she made her peace with it, and viewed the baby as more of a younger sister.

"And, for the record, it is sometimes," Lucina followed-up, "Very fortunate though that I'm quite an adorable child,"

Noire perked up, looking over at her girlfriend and her mother, who she hadn't realized were watching her. She was quite attentive with the baby, as she always was, and tended to get quite absorbed in whatever she did with her. That focus proved to be a double-edged sword, but it was one Sully was grateful for. Having Noire and Lucina ready and willing to take the baby off her and Chrom's hands was a godsend that allowed them a lot of breathing room.

"H-Hello Sully," Noire greeted with a nervous smile, "Lucina how long have you been staring at me?"

Lucina blushed.

"Uhhh a few minutes? I think?" she answered haphazardly, "What? It's not like I can help it. You're cute when you play with her,"

"Goodness girls, everyone's so busy staring at one version or another of Lucina and nobody's here to appreciate that I got all dressed up," Sully declared confidently.

It was certainly rare to see her like this. She wore a tasteful summer dress adorned with roses along the hem. Far more girly than anything she had ever worn, but she knew better than to waste a gift from Maribelle.

"You look spectacular, mother," Lucina said, "It's certainly different,"

Sully half-scoffed and half-laughed.

"I kinda hate it but everyone said I pulled it off well so who am I to disagree?" she said, "Everyone should be here in a half-hour or so, be ready out back by then girls, eh?"

Noire and Lucina nodded. Sully began to walk down the hall, but turned around to look at her daughter.

"You should wear your hair up more, hon," she said with a smile and a sparkle in her eye, "It's cute,"

She continued back down the hall as Lucina ran her fingers through her hair, which she had done up in a ponytail just to keep her hair a bit more tame for the evening. She wasn't used to it seeing it like that yet, so she appreciated the compliment. Her mother, while by no means the apex of grace or traditional femininity, had come into her own since she'd become queen, and even more so when the war was over. She managed to embrace her lackadaisical approach to beauty and make it a part of her, something Lucina longed to do as well.

"She's right, y'know?" Noire said, "It's quite flattering. Lets me see your eyes better,"

Lucina could never get the hang of accepting compliments, and between her mother and Noire she felt totally bombarded by them. Now that Noire's anxiety was getting better, she got a lot bolder with them too.

Before she could respond, baby Lucina threw a stuffed bear at Noire's face just before she became fully enraptured with her again. Both girls immediately laughed.

"Now why are you being so mean to your auntie Noire, hm?" Lucina said in a higher-pitched baby voice, looking at the baby who currently wore a grin proudly showing off her few teeth.

She leaned forward, and walked over to her, picking her up quickly to shoot her arms up in the air and pretend like she was flying about. The baby laughed gleefully until she brought her down normally, propping her up with one side of her hip.

"She's just playing rough because she's going to grow up big and strong just like you," she said, leaning forward to plant a chaste kiss on Lucina's cheek.

"Noire at this rate I'm going to melt," she said, cheeks flushed.

Somewhere from inside the castle, a loud, booming echo could be heard as a door slammed open, causing both girls to jump in alarm.

"A most pleasant evening! I yearn for the company of friends and a glorious meal!" an enthusiastically campy voice rang out.

Noire sighed.

"Guess Owain is here," Noire plainly noted.

Ever the life of the party that boy was, for better and for worse.

* * *

Once everyone arrived they all gathered outside. The royal garden on the eastern section of the palace had been converted into a gathering area of sorts. A gazebo, a large wood-paneled porch with lots of comfortable outdoor furniture, a long table for each and every one of them to sit underneath a white tent. For all intents and purposes, it was a perfect day. Perfect summer breeze, ideal temperature, the slight haze of the oncoming evening permeating the air. It was exactly what Chrom imagined when he first had the idea to do this for his friends, and he was infinitely grateful.

Everyone was finding a seat on the porch, already separating into their little cliques they'd formed within the Shepherds after they greeted everyone. All the kids sat around near the edge, moving the furniture slightly to accommodate themselves, and as usual, they were both the merriest and the noisiest, though no one minded considering the kids had certainly earned their right to joviality and then some. A few of the cavaliers sat together, Sully, Sumia, Cordelia, Stahl, Cherche, and Maribelle all sat together on some of the lounge seats. Chrom, Robin, Morgan, (the sole exception out of all the children to elsewhere) Lon Qu, Say'ri, Gaius, Lissa, Frederick, and Miriel were smack in the middle of it all. Off on the opposite end of the porch were Tharja, Libra, Nowi, Vaike, Virion, Muriel, Ricken, and Henry. Everyone was dressed in something fancier than normal clothes, but nothing too garish to detract from comfort… all save for Severa, at least.

It may have been early in the evening, but everyone had already begun drinking one of the many varieties of alcohol provided inside. Mostly wines, but there were beers from Chrom's favorite local brewery, some fancier fruit-infused drinks, and bourbon for the few of them that liked the harder stuff right off the bat. It didn't exactly take long for them to get chatty, but then again, it never did.

"You look disastrously hot in that dress," Kjelle quietly said to Severa, interlocking her fingers with the brunette girl's as they sat together on the wicker couch, "Unfairly hot, even,"

Severa briefly grumbled about Morgan's uncanny ability to predict her significant other's taste in clothing when she herself could never quite pin it down.

"Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself," Severa said, trying to put up her usual front whilst failing desperately.

Kjelle was always confused as to why she kept up the wall of being a brat, even though she was sure she had knocked it down a few months ago when they first started dating. Under the surface, she was an adorable, bubbly girl who could kick as much ass as anyone in the ranks of the army. She was also insecure, so that was most likely the reason, but Kjelle was doing her best to finally urge Severa into being herself. She was better now that she had made peace with her mom, but the old Severa still lingered stubbornly.

"You wanna sneak outta here after dessert?" Kjelle provocatively whispered.

Severa nearly choked on her wine, but did her best to hide it with grace, Kjelle made no such attempt to hide her snicker. Once Severa gathered herself, she sat up properly and took another sip, wearing a smug smile more befitting of her.

"No reason to eat dessert twice, dear," she said slyly.

Kjelle was always a bit slow on the uptake, which Severa enjoyed because she could occasionally sneak in quips like that. They were both perfectly designed to get under each other's skin in the best of ways.

It took her a minute, but she suppressed a heavy belly-laugh at that one.

"I'm gonna call your bluff there, babe," she teased, "You will most certainly want dessert twice. Pretty sure dad got the chocolate cheesecake you really like for tonight,"

Severa lit up.

"Fair enough," she said, "You're still the priority,"

"I better be," Kjelle said with a smile, planting a kiss on Severa's cheek.

"The lovebirds are at it again," Gerome said from the sidelines.

"Oh don't be a grump just cause you're a brooding dork," Nah fired back.

"Also the both of us could whoop your ass, dragon boy," Kjelle said, eyes narrowing.

Severa enjoyed someone doing the heavy lifting when it came to insults so she didn't have to, and just continually sipped her wine.

"I will refrain from being a keen observer of the obvious, then," Gerome said, eyes widened slightly.

Seeing him without the mask was something they were all still getting accustomed to, but it definitely made him easier to read.

"Oh come on now, let's not be too mean," Lucina said, "Gerome you're quite handsome and surely someone will come along and thaw that icy heart of yours,"

Jerome sighed.

"Quite easy for you to say, Princess," he said, "Though I admit, I'm quite content on my own right now. We never truly got to have much time to focus on ourselves and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it,"

"Fair enough," Lucina responded, "What exactly have you been up to beyond caring for Minerva? I can't remember the last time you talked about yourself,"

She couldn't remember because Jerome hadn't. Out of all the children, he was by far the quietest. Secretly, he was also the shyest, which most people mistook for hardened brooding.

"Well, I've taken up the guitar, semi-recently. I'm not any good but it's a decent way to spend my free time," he said, mostly trying to answer in order to move the conversation away from him as fast as possible.

"Oh! That's exciting!" Nah encouraged, "You'll have to play something for us some time!"

Gerome nodded, knowing full good and well that would not be any time in the near future.

"I have to agree," Laurent said, "I've been quite happy writing and doing research as of late, though I suspect that won't exactly surprise anyone here,"

They all chuckled.

"Nothing wrong with doing what you love," Lucina said before taking another sip.

"Exactly. For example, you love Noire, so you do Noire," Kjelle joked.

There was a moment of pure, undiluted silence before everyone burst out laughing.

"Naga's name Kjelle!" Lucina said, unable to suppress her embarrassed laugh, "Do you have no solidarity for your older sister? Am I too, trapped? Granted no immunity from your excessively horny quips? I'll have you know I have enough ammunition to fire back and choose not to, I may decide to enact judgment on you one of these days,"

"I'm not locked in here with you, sis, you're locked in here with me," she taunted back.

Everyone smirked, even Noire, who most certainly laughed out of pure embarrassment rather than laughter. Thankfully she had become rather good at disguising it.

"Ah I'm sure you'll be quite content going after me instead, cousin," Owain remarked, "It would not be the first time I'd be on the end of your verbal assaults,"

"Not her fault you make it so easy," Severa chided after another sip.

"You _could_ always stop talking like you're in a primary school theater production," Nah offered.

"I shan't bend the knee for anyone! Self-expression is the key to happiness!" he said before taking a hearty swig of beer, "Though I hardly think my vernacular is adequate reason for your… aggressive… meanness,"

Even the great chosen hero couldn't always think of the right word after a little beer.

"In my own defense, I didn't specify that your speaking habits resembled a particularly good primary school theater production. You can certainly emote, I will give you that much," Nah followed-up humorously.

Owain looked briefly contemplative.

"You know, you raise an interesting query, Nah… though as I'm sure you all guessed, my free time is filled with training, but even then I find my schedule to be a bit… uneventful. Laurent has research, Jerome has an instrument, some of us have one another… perhaps I should take up acting," he said.

It wasn't often that he'd say something that would foster unanimous agreement amongst the others, but that certainly would've made sense.

"I think that's a great idea," Noire gently encouraged, "You certainly have the charisma for it,"

"Do you think?" Owain asked brightly, giving them a glimpse of the young man without his typical facade.

It was well-known to just about everyone that his behavior was mostly a coping mechanism he'd adopted in their original timeline. Pretending to be this chosen hero, talking big, making himself into a larger than life personality, his seemingly outgoing nature was a result of crippling fear. It had stuck with him, and he liked it. The notion of doing it for recreational purposes might've been a healthy outlet for him. While he could be a handful, they enjoyed him no matter what, but they all appreciated the rare moments they'd get where they saw the Owain underneath it all.

"I think so, Owain," Severa said with a sincere nod, "You're quite talented. I'll be first in line to buy tickets if you land a role,"

Kjelle affectionately squeezed Severa's arm as Owain wore a content smile. There was nothing more lovely than seeing her display genuine kindness, a privilege that not everyone had been afforded back in the day.

As that sentiment settled, the final three guests arrived, stepping out onto the porch to receive a warm greeting from everyone. Of all the people to be late, it was strange that it managed to be them.

Kellam gave a comforting smile to Chrom as the exalt stood to welcome him and offer them drinks, Olvia at his side, both of her arms snaked around one of her husband's. Inigo followed closely behind, immediately turning his attention to the others after he snagged a glass of bourbon from one of the tables. He looked at them curiously for a moment before casting a glance back to the other side of the porch, but returned to his peers as he sat in the chair they'd reserved for him while his parents did the same.

"Hello all," he said, "What have I missed?"

"Just the man we're looking for, actually," Lucina said, "Owain was just talking about how he wants to give acting a shot. Maybe you can pass the word along to some of your friends at the theater?"

Once the war ended, and when all the pretenses were lifted, Inigo was a bit more forthcoming about the fact that he was an enthusiastic adoptee of his mother's vocation: dancing. He was quite good at it, they all saw him perform in a few ballet productions in Ylisstol. For all intents and purposes, he was a real rising star. He'd even served as an understudy in a theater production and got to play the leading man when the other actor fell ill.

Inigo looked delighted.

"Of course! I didn't even know you were interested? I could certainly use someone to practice lines with!" he said.

"Did you get a part?" Nah asked, leaning in slightly.

Inigo nodded as he took a surprisingly large drink.

"I did! It's why we were unfortunately late, the director asked me to stay after during rehearsal for the role I'm still an understudy for. Said he didn't want talent like mine wasted! We're doing a performance for the press and critics in a month, and the official production is in two months. Not the leading man or anything but it's a sizable role! Luckily for you Owain we're still casting, I think I might be able to put in a good word,"

"That's wonderful, Inigo! I'm proud of you," Nah said, holding up her drink to toast him, the others following suit.

"You're all too kind," Inigo said dismissively, still with his charming smile, "Though uh, actually, Severa?"

His smile went quickly, which was odd. That was Inigo's regular state of being. He didn't look grim or anything, but there seemed to be something that overcame him.

Severa cocked an eyebrow, looking at the dancer expectantly.

"I was wondering if I could have a word with you?" he asked.

Everyone blinked.

"What… like now?" Severa asked, sounding more confused than irritated.

Owain rubbed the back of his neck, trying to force his smile back.

"If you wouldn't mind, yes," he said, "I have a… er… private matter? Yes, I suppose that. A private matter to discuss and I wanted to do it-"

He quickly turned his head, looking back at the other groups of people there amongst them, and turned back.

"-before we all got settled for the night but I was late. It'll only take a second,"

"Flirt with her and I'll kill you, loverboy," Kjelle said with her eyes narrowed.

Inigo let out nervous laughter. As much as they all cared for each other, Inigo's womanizing habits had certainly remained at the forefront of his character and perception thereof.

"Trust me, I know better than to act out of turn. I respect the both of you far too much… and fear the both of you even more than I respect you," he declared.

Everyone chuckled.

Severa stood up, placing her glass on the small table next to where they sat.

"I appreciate it Kjelle but I think we all know I'd kill him far before you ever got the chance," she said slyly.

"Under normal circumstances? Sure," Kjelle said, "In that dress? I don't know if you could kill a housefly,"

Severa snorted.

"Fair enough. Well, I'd just ask Nah to turn into a dragon and eat him," she said.

Nah smiled politely and said nothing, but sipped her drink as everyone looked at her as she emanated a quietly threatening aura.

"No need to give her indigestion," Lucina offered, "I could always just run em' through with Falchion,"

Inigo laughed nervously as he side-eyed everyone after taking another drink.

"Boy everyone here sure is keen on incredibly specific methods of my hypothetical murder…" he said quietly.

He stood up, waited for Severa to be closer behind him, and led her away from the porch, going inside the castle and down the hall that led there to be totally out of earshot.

* * *

Everyone looked on with awe as Say'ri downed her fourth glass of bourbon. All the conversation stopped, mostly out of concern since if any of them had done such a thing in such a short span of time, they'd have passed out or died. She set the glass down and looked up at everyone's gazes that all stared wide-eyed and curious.

"Did I miss something?" she asked cluelessly.

Frederick laughed.

"My dear I believe that the others haven't been exposed to your superhuman tolerance of alcohol," he suggested.

She smiled.

"Ah fie to that, you Ylisseans are just a bunch of lightweights. In Chon'sin I knew teenagers who could outdrink you lot," she said defiantly.

"I'll hold you to that," Gaius chimed in confidently, "I bet I could go toe-to-toe with you,"

Lissa smirked.

"I wouldn't be so quick to boast, Gaius, your own wife can drink you under the table," she fired back.

Gaius's expression soured.

"Sometimes I think I fear that woman almost as much as I love her," Gaius said quietly, gazing at the back of Sumia's head as she conversed with the others.

"You'd better fear me, you little scoundrel," she called over to him without as much as turning her head.

Everyone snickered as Gaius's eyes widening, wondering just how in the hell she managed to pick that little snippet up so clearly.

"Say'ri's got a bit of a point, I can outdrink most of you," Morgan said confidently as she polished off her third glass of wine.

"We're women of fortitude," Say'ri followed-up, winking at Morgan.

"Damn straight," the amateur tactician said with bright enthusiasm.

"Yeah I won't pretend otherwise, I'm the weak spot in the family," Robin admitted, "Cordelia can compete with Sumia, Morgan is… impressive, to say the least, Severa isn't exactly endowed with a lot of staying power but she's got me beat,"

Chrom laughed.

"I figured that might change, maybe build up your tolerance a bit as the years went on. When you first joined up with us even you didn't know if you liked alcohol," he said, "But oh how dreadfully wrong I was. You remember the first time we celebrated after that Plegian invasion we fought off?"

Robin chuckled.

"No!" he emphatically (but lightheartedly) insisted, "Which was precisely the problem! I only know what you've told me,"

Chrom set his glass down on the side table, leaning forward in his chair. Morgan nearly did the same as she saw her father let out a good-natured groan. No matter the topic, she loved hearing stories about her parents.

"Oh boy here we go," Lissa said.

"So back when the Shepherds were less than maybe a dozen of us, we have a proper celebration for our victory and a belated 'welcome' party for Robin," Chrom began, "And this guy has amnesia, so naturally, he's got no clue what he likes, so Miriel says he should try a little bit of everything, frames it all as being an 'experiment'-"

Miriel leaned back in her chair over where the others sat.

"For the record, it was not my intention to cause him harm, I was merely curious," she said, smiling mischievously.

"Thanks for that, Miriel," Robin said, giving her a mock toast with his glass that she returned.

"So when she says 'try everything'- he does. And keep in mind, since his memory is gone, he's got no idea what his limits are or even how much one can consider 'reasonable' in terms of serving sizes,"

"I remember this," Lon'qu spoke up, "I thought it was some kind of Ylissean custom to become… lavishly intoxicated,"

"Glad someone remembers that night," Robin joked.

"For a while he's fine, and I figure he's actually some kind of secret God or Demon because when he returns from the table where we keep all the drinks, I swear nearly half of everything is gone. He keeps himself together for about ten minutes, and then just disappears for the rest of the night,"

"And then I scurried about the castle looking for him, and found him sobbing next to a suit of armor in the great hall. Apparently he'd confessed his love for it, but the feelings weren't mutual," Frederick mused.

Everyone laughed.

"Worst damn hangover of my life," Robin said with a wince.

"For being so smart you're kind of an idiot, dad," Morgan teased.

Another round of laughter.

"Aren't you supposed to mind your elders?" Robin playfully shot back.

"Elders? You're a year older than me," she said sticking out her tongue at him.

Chrom took a brief glance over in Kjelle's direction.

"Doesn't change that some of us are probably going to be grandparents in the next five years," Chrom said, an air of both pride and worry in his voice.

"Hey at least we'll be brothers-in-law," Robin offered, "Always felt like that anyway, may as well let Kjelle and Severa make it all official,"

"Holy shit!" Morgan exclaimed, "I didn't even think about that, Severa's gonna marry into the royal family! Does that mean she's gonna be a princess? Does that mean I'm gonna be a princess?!"

"Slow down there sport," Robin said with a chuckle at his daughter's boundless enthusiasm, "Kjelle and Severa aren't engaged-"

"Not yet they aren't," Morgan said under her breath, making the others wonder if maybe she knew more about that specific situation than she let on.

"But technically yes, Severa would be a princess if she married Kjelle. You however I think would be a… duchess? Is that how that works?" Robin asked as he turned to Chrom.

The exalt shrugged his shoulders.

"Gods if I know," he said, "Maybe. She'd have some title. As would you. I'm fairly sure you and Cordelia would be a Duke and Duchess combo, but I'm not up to date on all that. Technically,"

"Technically?" Morgan asked.

"Well it's a bit hazy, considering our circumstances," Chrom said, "Strictly speaking, I consider Lucina and Kjelle my daughters despite the timeline discrepancy, but we still have our own Lucina here as well. With the way this works we can only guess Kjelle will be on the way sometime in the near future, and they'll be princesses too,"

"I'm perfectly fine not being in the line of succession dad, thank you!" Kjelle called over, "I'd like to enjoy my life!"

A bit of light-hearted laughter rang out. Those kids were stupendously gifted at eavesdropping.

"Of course," Chrom answered her, "Thankfully that seems to be the unanimous attitude. They're all just titles anyway,"

Morgan thought about it for a moment.

"Interesting… I wonder if the kids in this timeline will end up with the same people. Like, what if this timeline's Lucina still ends up with Noire? Wouldn't that be funny," she proposed.

"It would, but actually, I doubt that," Robin said.

"How so?" Miriel asked, "I for one think it's reasonable to assume that the children would still be predisposed to their inherent characteristics that would still draw them to one another,"

"I don't think it would be fair to write that off, actually," Robin said, "However now it's more a 'nature versus nurture' situation. I think the experiences they've had define them just as much as who they are inherently, since Lucina was in fact born in two separate timelines, we can guess that there's some element of parallelism at play. But since the kids will be raised in a new environment, so they're likely to be similar to their older counterparts, but still different versions altogether,"

"Interesting," Miriel said contemplatively, "I'd like to exchange notes with you on the subject if at all possible,"

"I'm down," Robin agreed, "It's certainly interesting to speculate, but only time will tell,"

"Don't worry Mom and Dad," Kjelle called over, "You still have a chance at getting grandkids after all,"

Chrom snorted.

"We're perfectly content with you all for the time being… Gods the thought of grandchildren right now. I think I'd lose my mind," Chrom mused.

"Sweetie we're quite happy even if we don't have any. You could always still adopt," Sully said to Kjelle, "What's important is you being happy,"

Kjelle smiled, because she knew her mother was being truthful. Coming out to Chrom and Sully was a process for her, since she hadn't gotten the chance to do so in her original timeline. Once she told them she was gay it came as a relief that her parents both thought nothing of it and accepted it instantly. There wasn't a huge stigma about it in Ylisse, but it was still seen as uncommon and occasionally looked down on by more traditionally 'set in their ways' people. There were already members of the Shepherds who didn't align themselves with traditional sexuality (notably Stahl and Vaike), but both Chrom and Sully thought this may have been a blessing. If members of the royal family were out in the open about who they were, maybe the stigma could be removed entirely like it was in other countries overseas. It made it a lot easier for Lucina to follow in her sister's example to come out as bi almost immediately after. Severa and Noire followed soon subsequently, and were relieved to see their parents were totally accepting, and just wanted them to be happy. The last thing any of the parents wanted was their children to live their peaceful lives without getting to properly be themselves.

"Oh boy, all this timeline talk makes my head hurt," Lissa said, "I need another drink,"

Chrom perked up a bit.

"Well, Lissa, you might be in luck, I think I smell something coming from the kitchen, and I'd be more than willing to guess that the food is ready," Chrom said.

Everyone stood up at that, mention of food was an easy way to get everyone's attention very quickly.

"Hell yes! I'm starving!" Morgan called out as she nearly leapt to her feet.

* * *

"So, what's so important?" Severa asked Inigo, a little bit of her former self bleeding through in her demanding tone.

The two of them stood in the hall, far down enough not to be heard by anyone, still allowing Inigo a view over Severa's shoulder if anyone were to come inside just to be safe.

"Right to the point then," he said nervously, "I don't mean to be an imposition, but I need your help,"

Severa was stunned, Inigo dropping his act was about as common as Owain dropping his, the difference being that nobody really knew the real Inigo. He was a valiant fighter and a dedicated comrade, selfless to fault when it came down to protecting the others, but his vulnerability was 'elusive'- as Noire had once put it. Asking for help was just so distinctly… unlike him. That swaggering, lone wolf confidence fit him like a glove

"My help? What for?" she asked.

Inigo cleared his throat.

"More or less. A favor… or maybe just advice? I don't really know how to classify it. Maybe it's more along the lines of general guidance-"

"Inigo," Severa interrupted, fighting back sounding stern or mean and just trying to push the boy forward, "I'm not going anywhere. Think first, then speak,"

Severa's lack of bite surprised him.

"Well this is harder than I thought. Um… I suppose you're quite aware of my reputation as a… uh… well a-"

"Philandering man-whore," she finished plainly.

There it was. Inigo felt a bit wounded, even if she wasn't entirely off-base.

"Yes, that," he said, "And see… if someone who was, in fact, informed as to my perceived nature, and found themselves approached by me, they would no doubt be skeptical if I were to propose that I had feelings for them. True, honest feelings, ones in a more… traditionally chivalric sense?"

Severa just stared at him, waiting for him to get to the point. If this was headed where she suspected she wondered why in the seven hells he, of all people, was coming to her to ask for romantic advice. She was a confident girl, but also one who knew her limits, and matters of the heart were something she felt like she'd never fully wrap her head around. He, however, was the ladies man with a surplus of charm that threatened to make him unbearable in some circumstances.

"What I'm saying is that there is someone who we know… who you know very well that I may indeed have such feelings for. And I want to know how to approach the situation. I'm not lying just to get into anyone's pants, and if I can do anything to convince you of the purity of my intentions then I will… but this someone is very important to me. Someone I don't want to ruin my chances with. The last thing I want is to come across as-"

"A philandering man-whore," she reiterated.

"Precisely," he said with an apprehensive nod.

She was almost at a loss, mainly because she believed him. She didn't know how that was even possible considering how often he'd flirted with everything that looked good in a skirt, herself included, but something about this was different. There was an urgency to his words, a clumsiness even. He was always the one to get the last word in, had a response for everything and could articulate himself flawlessly… but now he was nervous? The other question still remained, why ask her?

"So… who is it?" Severa asked, trying to hide her genuine curiosity.

He looked around to make sure no one was around to hear him.

"It's… your sister," he said, a hint of shame somewhat detectable in his tone.

Severa's jaw dropped.

Her disbelief mostly had to do with the fact that her little sister was perhaps the furthest thing from 'dating material' she could possibly fathom. It wasn't because she didn't like her, or because she was unpleasant, or even because she wasn't pretty. She was a very likable, plucky young girl who benefitted from their parent's genes every bit as much as Severa had, and she was passionate and bright to top it all off. Maybe it was more to do with the fact that she was just not at all what seemed to be 'Inigo's type'

"And you came to me about this, because?" Severa inquired.

Inigo sighed.

"Truly, I don't mean to belabor you-"

"You're not belaboring anyone, Inigo," she interrupted.

This was definitely not the reaction he'd expected. Sure he came to her for help, but he expected more reluctance, to put it mildly. He knew Severa had eased up on her mean girl schtick, but he was keenly aware she wasn't his biggest fan. His hypothetical worst-case scenario involved a lot of slapping, shouting, and accusations about trying to deflower her little sister. They weren't exactly unfounded and Inigo knew she cared for Morgan, but he had to at least try considering his circumstances.

"Thank you, Severa," he said with humility, "The truth is, I came to you because I think you're the one who knows her the best. She wasn't with us back in our time, so none of us are familiar with her like we are with each other. I know she's close with your father, but I think we both know me asking Robin or Cordelia for advice on this matter is… impractical,"

That was certainly true. Severa nearly chuckled at the thought of her father giving him the 'protective dad' shakedown. Despite them only being a few years younger than their parents, they nonetheless adopted the traditional parental roles quite quickly. The children all secretly appreciated it, given how much they missed it.

"So all that leaves is you. I know she's good friends with Nah, Lucina, and Owain, but you're her family. I feel like asking you is the best thing to do… not to mention I trust you to keep your mouth shut about all this far more than the others,"

"You trust me?" she asked.

Inigo nodded.

"Of course. Why wouldn't I? You've had a bit of a mean streak but you aren't malicious. I know you want her to be happy… and I would like to think you at least wouldn't want me to be unhappy. You won't sabotage me unless you think I'm going to break her heart or hurt her,"

"Are you?"

"Absolutely not," he said with sincerity, "I swear,"

She had to admit, his logic was pretty impenetrable. She was protective of Morgan, even if she wasn't sure she understood her completely.

"So, what exactly do you need my advice regarding?" Severa asked, "How to approach her? How to talk to her? Ask her out, what?"

Inigo nervously ran his fingers through his dark brown hair with one hand, clearly frustrated.

"I honestly don't know," he said, "It's not as if we've never interacted before. She's just a bit-"

"Unusual?" Severa offered.

Inigo smiled.

"That she is, I suppose," he agreed.

"Well, if you want my two cents," Severa began, "Morgan's very direct. She's not great at cues, always distracted, always with her head in the clouds. If you're dropping hints or being vague to try and probe her, it won't go over well. You have to match her, be direct, leave no room for misunderstanding,"

Inigo looked like he was taking invisible notes with his mind. This did make a lot of sense, he'd attempted to flirt with her before but she always proved resilient, not rejecting his comments, but ignoring them entirely.

"So if I were to have a conversation with her, break the ice a bit, being upfront with her at the end… would that be a good way to go about it, you think?"

For as much of an enigma as her sister was, if she had to develop some kind of strategy for this, that would certainly be it. She nodded… but there was a bit more to it, now that she thought about it.

"Inigo," she said, stepping forward a bit, expression softening, "I appreciate you asking. It lets me know you aren't just trying to use her, and spares you from me beating you senseless,"

They both laughed a little.

"But," she followed up, "I hope you know, Morgan is… different. She's weird and awkward and even I don't know what goes on in that head of hers. You could do everything right and she might still shoot you down. I don't even know if she's the type who wants to be with someone right now… or ever, if I'm being honest. If that happens, don't blame yourself, alright?"

He definitely appreciated her honesty. He was naturally optimistic and tried to be confident, but it never heard to temper expectations to spare oneself from emotional disasters.

"I will keep that in mind… thank you Sev," he said with a polite nod.

Severa smiled, but it faded quickly.

"Just so we're clear… Inigo, why are you interested in her?" she asked.

Under normal circumstances, he'd play that question off, say something witty to deflect it so he could focus on what his real goals were, but Severa deserved honesty. All their friends did.

"I think… it's because she's so strange," he said with a wistful smile as he conjured up an image of the girl in his head, "She's enigmatic, but she's kind. Resourceful. She's… comforting, and she's fun,"

Severa couldn't argue with that. While they occasionally would pester one another like sisters would, she loved her playfulness. Ever since peacetime began, they got to catch up on a lifetime's worth of sisterly activities. Staying up late and telling bedtime stories, doing each other's hair, even just having someone to talk to was such a relief. She wished she had Morgan back in the old timeline, she would've felt so much less alone, but it made her time with her all the more precious. She was happy Morgan, despite her occasional weirdness, was able to socialize enough to make that kind of impression on someone like Inigo.

"Doesn't hurt that she's cute, I'm guessing?" Severa taunted.

Inigo blushed.

"Uh, no, it certainly does not. Hurt, that is," he almost squeaked out.

"Well good luck," Severa assured him, then looking down at the glass of bourbon he held at his side, "And don't drink too much, you're not even drunk yet and you're stumbling over your words. Find a happy medium to take the edge off,"

Inigo looked at the glass, her advice was certainly practical, and she was probably correct.

"Duly noted," he said, "Thank you,"

She nodded, turning around to head back outside, pleased that Inigo might soon be revealing that oh-so-elusive genuine side that evaded them for so long. Whoever she just spoke with, she liked him a lot, and wanted to see more of him, and knew the others would too.

* * *

"You've been awfully quiet this evening," Lucina said as she sat down with her plate of food amongst the others, this time opting to pick a seat beside Cynthia.

It was somewhat concerning if she was being totally honest, usually the auburn-haired girl was a beacon of personality, but she'd hardly said a word all night. That and she'd barely eaten, which was very unlike her.

"Who, me?" she asked with surprise, as she had been so lost in thought she didn't notice Lucina sit next to her.

"No, the other cute girl with pigtails," Lucina sardonically mused, "Yeah you. Everything okay?"

Cynthia laughed.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine Luci. Thanks for asking though. Just… very tired,"

Cynthia had taken up training alongside Owain, which was enough in and of itself to drain one's energy rather significantly. However it was her other job, helping her mother instruct the new pegasus knights at the academy, that was likely doing her in. Sumia had become an instructor for riding alongside Cordelia, alternating teaching every week, and Cynthia served as a teacher's assistant for both.

"I'll bet. You ever think about taking some time off?" Lucina offered, "Bet you I can get Kjelle to talk Severa into covering for you for a week or so,"

Cynthia sighed.

"I appreciate it… but I don't wanna give up or let anybody down," she said.

"Taking a break isn't letting anybody down, you know?" Lucina said.

"I mean… I guess not? I don't know. I just don't want to risk it," she said.

"It might be a little unhealthy though, I'm sure everyone would understand. Hell even if it's just with Owain, surely he'd get it," she said, knowing full well her cousin wouldn't begrudge her in the slightest.

"I have too much fun with Owain. It's exhausting but it's the only way to cut loose, I guess," she said.

Lucina knew what was going on, but couldn't bring herself to address the issue directly. A part of her suspected Cynthia knew that, too.

The issue in question being Panne.

During the final phase of the war, everyone fought to protect each other with reckless abandon. People followed Robin's lead as best they could, but even the greatest tactical mind in the world couldn't account for everything. During the skirmish with Validar, Panne had instinctively leaped in front of Cynthia when she had left herself open, sparing her a hit from a spell that would've killed her, which ended up costing the Taguel her own life. Cynthia hadn't been herself since, and Lucina figured she was running herself into the ground as some form of self-imposed penance, or even just a distraction from lingering guilt that she couldn't shake. Being responsible for the only death amongst the shepherds was not something she figured would fade easily.

Lucina just didn't really know how to help her. She would have to change that soon, as it had persisted for so long that she knew this wasn't going to just go away. Maybe she'd have to talk to Sumia and Gaius to see if they could lend her some insight.

She placed a hand on Cynthia's shoulder.

"Well, just think about it okay?" Lucina said, trying to force a smile and push away the concern in her voice, "And if you ever need to talk to somebody, you know I'm always around, right? And so are the others,"

Cynthia turned to look at the blue-haired princess and gave a weary smile. Lucina hoped that she had been general enough not to touch a nerve, and from the looks of it, she had done just that.

"Thanks, I'll feel better once I get a decent night's sleep," she tried to assure her.

Lucina nodded, feeling silent relief as the girl finally took a bite of her food.

Cynthia had been a brave fighter in their home timeline. Always at Lucina's side, always covering her, and obeyed orders to a fault. Once they'd arrived in this world, she'd gotten to properly show off her inner bubbly enthusiasm that she wasn't afforded the opportunity to showcase. That was what Lucina had loved so much about coming here, she was their leader, just as her father had been the leader of the shepherds. But once their parents had died, everyone was forced into a life on the run. It was a world of constant fight or flight, so once they escaped, they got to be themselves, which endlessly relieved her. Everyone was slowly coming into their own… except for Cynthia, and for that, her heart ached.

At the end of the day, she just wanted her friends to be happy, and she knew she wouldn't experience that very happiness until everyone was comfortable in their own skin. She felt lingering responsibility, and how could she be blamed? She had taken care of them for so long, she simply couldn't help it.

She'd do her best, and with enough time, she was confident she could help her.

* * *

Once the food was all but gone and as the evening progressed, everyone found themselves tipsier but with zero signs of stopping. They all began to branch off further, some walking around the courtyard, some wondering about the palace, some still on the porch, everyone generally having a good time as the blanket of the night sky enveloped them all.

Tharja had excused herself a while ago, planning on returning for dessert, finding herself easily lost amongst the castle's art gallery. Emmeryn had done her best to preserve several ancient paintings and sculptures from all around Ylisse, believing them to hold significant cultural value. Such items included artwork from her home country, Plegia, which originally irked her somewhat despite not being the biggest fan of her home country. However, Chrom informed her that it was Emmeryn's wish to collect enough artwork from both countries and open a museum installation of sorts near the border of both countries, adjoining it to an embassy. A wish Chrom promised to continue, right after he named Tharja the head official Plegian ambassador to Ylisse.

She was shocked, frankly. Tharja had been considered one of the Shepherds, but she figured it was mostly out of convenience and circumstance. When she joined them, tensions were high after Emmeryn died. They were kind people, and didn't let some form of undue prejudice change how they treated her, but she knew it was impossible for them to completely trust her. Thankfully that faded in time, and she had become one of them, even if perhaps she wasn't the most social.

She found herself looking at one of the paintings from her home country. An impressionist work that seemed to be the portrait of a noble family sitting in their home. The format itself made looking at the painting strange, as the faces were blurred, the only things recognizable about the family of four were faint Plegian facial features, dark hair, and clothes that would've been in keeping with fashion around fifty years ago.

"Mom?" a soft voice reverberated throughout the large room.

Tharja turned to find her daughter a mere ten feet away from her. That girl had inherited her mother's uncanny ability to be undetectable when she wanted.

"Hey," she said in her typically dry tone of voice.

Since Noire had been living in the palace with Lucina for the last four months, she'd only seen her when the two girls came to visit for a weekly dinner.

Their relationship was, to put it mildly, strained. The worst part wasn't even really because either of them had done or said anything. Noire had baggage from the previous version of her mother she had known, and such baggage was something she couldn't just abandon. Years of being treated like a personal guinea pig, abuse both verbal and physical, and just a general attitude that she was nothing more than a tool for her mother. In that timeline, Libra, her father, had died in the initial Plegian conflict after meeting her mother, and as a result, she'd grown into her darker tendencies. Once Noire divulged all of this to her parents, they were both horrified. Tharja was far from someone who would be considered 'normal' by most standards, but she was also the furthest thing from being a monster. She had quite the existential crisis when she learned a version of herself had gone mad and abused her own family because she suffered a loss. Would she have done the same in this timeline? Thankfully, if Libra was good at anything, it was easing worry. Their mutual bond over both coming from a harsh background was what brought them together, and to think that she would subject her own daughter to something similar sickened her.

At the same time, Tharja didn't know how to be nurturing. Hell, she barely knew how to be 'nice' to most people. She did her best with her daughter, but she knew the look Noire had whenever she looked at her. It was a look she had given her own mother, once upon a time.

Now things were different. She wanted them to be different. With the way things were going, she was going to marry into the royal family. They'd be seeing a lot more of each other after that, which she actually wanted, but was wary seeing as she didn't want to upset Noire. She had to try and do her best to mimic her husband's gentler approach.

"Dessert is ready, they wanted me to tell you," Noire said politely.

"Thanks," Tharja said casually, "How'd you know where to find me?"

Noire didn't anticipate a question like that.

"Oh, well, I just thought you'd be here. You always take time to look at the paintings when you visit,"

Tharja looked at her daughter skeptically. As far as she was concerned, her visits to this place had always been alone.

"I do?" she asked, intentionally leading Noire a bit.

Noire looked mildly alarmed.

"I… see you in here… occasionally," Noire admitted.

Tharja was more amused than she was surprised that Noire had taken to watching her from afar. In a way, it was comforting. Like mother like daughter.

"Did you ever think to speak to me when you saw me here?" Tharja asked, displaying uncharacteristic gentleness in both her expression and tone of voice.

Noire was stunned. Her mother spoke exactly like she did when her normal cadence was abandoned. Even Tharja herself was surprised, doubly by the fact that she leaped at the opportunity to make this conversation an actual conversation.

"N-No," she admitted, "I didn't want to disturb you,"

"You wouldn't be disturbing me," Tharja said, "I wouldn't mind… talking to you, that is,"

When it came right down to it, she was just as nervous talking to other people as Noire was. She was, if nothing else, grateful she could at least have conversations without her notoriously awful mood swings, something that Lucina had helped her with through practice.

"I wouldn't mind either," Noire said with a slight nod.

Noire turned around, quickly scampering off back towards the direction she came from, no doubt eager to share dessert with Lucina and the others.

Tharja's situation was less than ideal, but as she watched her exit the room, she did feel a certain level of satisfaction. Noire was happy. She was healthy, too. It would've been nice if she was more a part of her life like Robin had been with Severa and Morgan, she just didn't really know how.

As soon as she took a step forward, she detected another presence in the room. She didn't even have to look to know who it was.

Libra approached her from the side, long blonde hair looking as idyllic as any of the paintings around the two of them. Without so much as saying a word, he embraced Tharja, planting a kiss on her forehead.

"Well what was that for?" Tharja asked.

"Trying," Libra said softly, "It was very sweet of you,"

Tharja let out a small 'tsk' and silently cursed herself for being so damn sentimental.

"Ugh, feel like I'm never gonna get a handle on this… on her," Tharja muttered.

Libra looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

"She's the same way with me… some days I feel like she sees me as little more than a ghost," he lamented, taking her by the hand as they headed out.

"At least she likes you," Tharja said.

"She loves you,"

"She doesn't like me," Tharja replied, "I just don't know how to do this,"

Libra put his arm around her.

"Our circumstances are… rather extraordinary. I don't know a soul on this continent that would begrudge your frustration," he assured her, "She's more receptive to me, what if I tried talking to her sometime this week? Maybe we can start… fixing this, I dunno,"

Tharja gave a thin smile.

"That's alright by me, dear,"

Libra knew that her words masked genuine enthusiasm. In that moment, he thanked Naga he lived in the world where he was lucky enough to be at her side.

* * *

Morgan had been sitting with a few of the other kids for a while, drifting from group to group. Her father said it was good for her to socialize when she got the chance, as she did spend a lot of time secluded in her room. She knew he was correct and did want to follow his advice, but her brain didn't always work like that. She could devote all of her attention to one thing, but multitasking or trying to keep multiple things in mind. However, she did genuinely enjoy talking to everyone.

Once she finished a friendly debate with Henry regarding magical practices, she ran her plate (which had previously hosted two servings of devil's food chocolate cake) over to where the dirty dishes were kept, and then walked to her favorite place to be when afforded a second or two alone at gatherings like this: the gazebo.

Once it was dark out, one of the maids had come and lit the candles that adorned said gazebo, making the ambiance perfect. Morgan sat on the edge that pointed her towards the best view of the night sky, and she began to mentally trace constellations from memory.

Her fixations on singular tasks tended to mess with her perception of time, which is why she would so frequently lose herself in her work and studies. It was also what led her to be surprised when someone broke her concentration.

"Mind if I have a seat?" a voice a few feet above her asked.

She was startled, looking up to find Inigo, of all people, looking down at her. It was doubly surprising since she hadn't really gotten the chance to speak with him all night.

"Here? Yeah sure! Not like I got a monopoly on space over here or anything," she said with a grin.

Inigo sat down next to her, leaving a solid foot of room in between them, propping himself up on his hands as he laid back a bit.

"You like looking at the constellations?" the strawberry-haired girl asked.

He looked like he was nervous, which was strange. Inigo was never nervous.

"Me? Oh, nothing that fancy. I like a good view of the sky on a particularly beautiful night, nothing that academic. Not sure I have the mind for it," he said.

Morgan chuckled.

"Nothing academic about it, but fair enough," she said, "Sometimes I wish I didn't bury my head in so many books, then I could look at the sky without trying to constantly find something in it. Just look at it for what it is,"

"Ah, understandable," he replied, "Honestly I think I'd like to look at it with more discerning eyes. Sometimes I see the sky and it reminds me too much of… well… the old world,"

That was a topic that Morgan was, for lack of better judgment, very interested in. Her natural inquisitiveness made her want to know everything about everything, but she wasn't so insensitive as to probe her friends about the most traumatic time in their lives. Inigo himself looked slightly surprised he had even brought it up. What was up with him?

"Oh yeah," Morgan said, concern tinting her voice, "You guys had to travel by night then, huh?"

Inigo nodded.

"That we did," he sighed, "Some nights we got glimpses at the stars, other nights there was too much smoke or smog in the atmosphere. Smelled positively wretched too,"

His attempt to alleviate a bit of the tension from a heavy subject worked. They both laughed.

"So I like to try and not let that pollute my feelings on something so beautiful. Er, pardon the pun,"

"Sounds swell," she said, looking at Inigo a bit more closely, "Would've been strange knowing you back then,"

Inigo looked puzzled.

"Strange?" he asked.

"Well, I guess since my memory is a bit wonky I may have known you and just don't remember, but I can't imagine an Inigo who doesn't use product in his hair or doesn't smell faintly of perfume,"

His eyes widened and his face reddened, he attempted to deflect the comment by clearing his throat as Morgan giggled.

"Dark times indeed," he said, trying to turn his throat-clearing into a more restrained chuckle, "I guess it's only reasonable that you'd find it hard to picture me as anything less than the dashing scoundrel I am then, hm?"

His playful prodding made Morgan feel strange. She couldn't quite nail down why, or even how exactly.

"Well you're half right," Morgan said with a wink, "Really I'd just want to see you with different hair,"

Inigo rubbed the back of his neck.

"Oh believe me, you absolutely would not," he said nervously, "It was long, totally unkempt, hardly ever washed… hell, it was long enough to be braided. I'd look just like mom…"

His thoughts traveled to picturing himself with such a look, which really wasn't hard considering he was a dead ringer for Olivia. Morgan snickered.

"If you ever grow it out that far again, I call dibs on braiding it. I'd make you look cute!" she offered with a mischievous grin.

Inigo nodded.

"Duly noted, but I wouldn't hold my breath," he said, "Though if it got me an excuse to spend time with you I might reconsider,"

Inigo held on for a beat, considering maybe he'd switched gears too quickly. It was such a perfect segue he just couldn't resist, and now he risked sounding like his old self again.

"Hey I'm not going anywhere!" she said right before leaning in slightly, "Might have to swipe some of Sevs hair stuff to do it though. If we get caught it's your funeral,"

He wasn't sure what he found more surprising, her total lack of absorption when it came to his flirtatious comment, or that there seemed to be a slim chance that she was taking this hair braiding business seriously.

He smiled and shook his head.

"Ah that'll be a definite 'no' then," he said, "There are few worse places to be on than on your sister's bad side,"

Morgan gave a playful pout where she stuck out her lower lip, and then snapped back to her normal self instantly.

"Eh, could be worse. I annoy her all the time and she still likes me… I think," she said, a little bit of doubt in her voice at the end.

Inigo tilted his head.

"Nothing to think about, I assure you," Inigo said, "Your sister certainly likes you. She speaks fondly of you,"

If only one good thing could come from this, he hoped that maybe he could help ease her feelings towards Severa a bit. Morgan looked a little surprised.

"She does? Huh," she said plainly, "Well I guess I have more ammo for when she gets snippy with me,"

That wasn't exactly the intended effect, but it was better than nothing.

"In her defense, it's easy to compliment those who are deserving of kind words," he said a bit more elegantly.

Morgan perked up.

"Me? Deserving? I dunno about that. I mean I'm not a risen or anything but I can't imagine I inspire much in people," she said with a distinct lack of confidence.

Inigo shook his head with enthusiasm.

"Nonsense!" he said with a nervous smile, "You have plenty of things about you that are worthy of praise,"

Morgan's brow furrowed, her hesitant smile lingering.

"... I do? Like what?" she asked, genuinely clueless.

He couldn't detect if this was going over her head or not. Her nervousness could've indicated that she had picked up on him, but it also just could've been general curiosity. For as intelligent, enthusiastic, and energized as she was, she certainly didn't have a high opinion of herself. In many respects, she was just like Severa, constantly living in the shadow of a parent that she felt she could never live up to. Unlike her sister, however, she channeled that to work harder, whereas it had done severe emotional damage to Severa.

But it didn't matter. He was nervous, he had worked up the courage to go over there, and it was the perfect moment.

"Well, I could tell you plenty of things, if I'm being truthful," he said, his tone becoming more sincere, "But… I'm a man who puts a lot of value in his words. So how about a little transaction, so to speak?"

He was getting a bit laborious with his conduct. He had to try and be more direct in the future, he couldn't let himself go too far against Severa's advice.

"A… transaction?" she asked.

"Yes, so to speak," he said, "I'd be more than willing to list all kinds of words about you if… maybe you would accompany me to dinner one night this week?"

Morgan's face remained concerningly still, like the words bounced off of her, which sent off many of Inigo's internal alarms. Eventually, it just contorted into mild confusion.

"Dinner… like… like a date?" she said, gears visibly turning in her head.

Inigo felt a small wave of relief, worried he was going to have to spell it out for her and come across as demanding. He summoned up every ounce of willpower he could muster so he could respond beyond nodding.

"Yes," he said, lightly placing one hand on her as he turned himself to face her fully, "And I'm not kidding, as hard as that may be to believe,"

Morgan laughed nervously.

"Uh… huh. Well that's… interesting," she squeaked out, "You want to go out… with me?"

Now all he could do was nod.

Morgan wasn't exactly opposed to the notion of relationships, but they existed on another planet to her. They orbited her mind, but it was never something she thought about actively. She had certainly taken note of several men and women in the Shepherds who were attractive, but even then, it felt distant. It also endlessly confused her that Inigo would try to ask her out, of all people. She was a bit more modest and just more homely. She would've thought this was a joke, had it not been for Inigo's surprisingly left-field turn at dropping the womanizing act.

"Are you… sure?" was all she could manage.

Inigo laughed.

"Quite sure," he said, "I… may or may not have asked Severa for advice on talking to you,"

Morgan suddenly began to feel her nerves get hit with a hot was of embarrassment as her cheeks became rosy. She turned around, looking towards the other children still lounging about to find Severa and Kjelle watching the two of them very intently. Severa gave her a solid thumbs-up when they maintained eye-contact.

She turned back to Inigo, who was doing his best impersonation of someone who didn't feel like they were about to explode.

"Y-yeah," she answered, "That sounds nice,"

Inigo's heart fluttered. He had almost convinced himself that he would be turned down, but there would always be a part of him that held onto hope. You didn't survive for as long as Inigo and abandon all prospects of things becoming better and brighter.

"How about tomorrow evening?" he asked her, "I'll get a carriage over to your place and we can go anywhere you'd like to eat in Ylisstol,"

She gave a nod, still looking at him with disbelief. Inigo had been emboldened by the answer, and by the fact that she hadn't moved her hand the entire time.

He leaned in, giving her a light kiss on the cheek. Morgan could barely register what happened, she felt like she'd had a stroke.

He winked at her, nearly making her melt. How had she never noticed how offensively cute he was.

"I meant what I said earlier. I have plenty of nice things to say about you. Maybe you can say the same about me here soon?" he rhetorically posed as he stood up.

"I think it'll take more than my word to alleviate your reputation, buddy," she nervously teased.

He feigned stumbling back, placing his hand over his heart.

"Ah, you wound me so. Though I suppose I deserve it," he said, "I'll see you tomorrow,"

She nodded in response, watching him as he walked back to the drink table to finally take the rest of the edge off now that the euphoria of success was setting in. She caught Severa's eyes, looking straight at her. She was grinning ear to ear.

Morgan wasn't sure why, but that didn't really matter. Severa wasn't going to miss a chance to tell her baby sister she was proud of her. Inigo looked like he had already downed a shot of something or other as he sat down on one of the chairs with the others.

She had no clue what to do, or how to process what happened… maybe a drink was a good idea.

* * *

At the edge of the night's turn into the next day, everyone was telling their drunken goodbyes to one another. It had been an eventful evening, and they were all the furthest thing from sober imaginable. So much so that Chrom actually had to help Robin walk out to his ride home, despite him not really being in any shape to walk himself. There was a lot of mumbling, a lot of laughing, and a lot of groans from Severa who just wanted to get home and rest. She had disappeared from the event entirely for a while with Kjelle, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why she was so exhausted when they returned.

Morgan was too dazed to talk, which was rare for her.

Once Chrom had gotten his best friend inside their ride safely, he took a step back, letting the girls inside.

"Thanks, Chrom," Cordelia mused as Morgan nearly tripped inside onto her sister, "I didn't really feel like carrying anyone tonight,"

Chrom nodded, trying to put up a chivalric front even though he felt like he was going to collapse any moment now. He did not look forward to getting the drunkenly snoozing Sully all the way into their bedroom from the porch, where she currently resided.

"Don't mention it," he assured her.

There was an awkward glance between the two before she got in. Being intoxicated had its way of drumming up old memories, memories that, in this case, included a history of unrequited love. Cordelia had pined after the exalt for years before the Shepherds had even formed, and while she never told Chrom, he still knew. Her adolescent feelings faded with time, and were nearly completely tarnished by Robin once he came along. She had fallen for him so quickly it made Chrom feel like a far-off dream… but both of them still had that unspoken thing that lay dormant. But they were both happy, and they were both good friends, and that was pretty much all that mattered.

As much as she had once loved Chrom, she could never love him like she did Robin and the girls. Chrom hoped this was the case, for her sake, and figured as much, but a part of him felt bad knowing his best friend's wife had been so taken with him, once upon a time.

She mouthed the word 'bye' through the carriage window as the horses began to take them home, which he returned.

Before he went to fetch his wife, he took a moment to just stand in the crisp night air. Never in his life did he expect to encounter such a feeling. Such contentment. Being the Exalt was no easy task, but he managed it. He'd created a home and a family that he cherished, and helped his friends do the same. He'd help rebuild this country from ruin, aided everyone affected by the Valmese conflict, strengthened their relationship with the Khans, made amends with Plegia, defeated an unspeakable evil that threatened to destroy them all, and saved their children from a dying world. He had effectively destroyed the curse of his family name that had clung to tragedy, created by his war-mongering father and unfairly burdened his pacifist older sister.

He could only hope Emmeryn was out there somewhere, looking down on him and his family, on all the shepherds, with pride knowing that her sacrifice all those years ago was not in vain. There was a bitter sadness that he felt, knowing she wasn't around to celebrate with them, but he took solace in knowing that she would've embraced the many recent additions to his family. She would've been such a wonderful aunt to the kids.

Life… for the first time in a very long time, was truly and unequivocally, good.

* * *

"Gods be damned, I hate the ocean," Atalliana grumbled as she took a seat behind the desk in the captain's quarters.

They had been stuck in that ship for nearly two weeks at this point, and to say that the Vallethean princess had cabin fever was an understatement. Traveling overseas was not something she was unfamiliar with, but she liked to avoid it as much as possible since it was so damned uncomfortable.

The boat rocked gently against the steady waves, pressing forward a little faster than normal because the wind had picked up that night. She stared at the candlelight on the desk as it seemed to flicker with every buoyant motion the boat made. Her chin lay flat on her hands, which were pressed onto the surface of the desk, eyes going back and forth with the flame.

"I'm sure the ocean hates you back," her brother quipped as he absentmindedly flipped through a book, laying on the couch that had been nailed into the floor on the side of the room to keep it steady. The royal fleet wasn't exactly hugely accommodating when it came to comfort, but they made exceptions for the royal family's personal vessel, which was enormous and decorated like the interior of a castle in its rooms. Rugs, bookshelves, carpets, lanterns, the whole treatment.

"Reassuring, thanks," she fired at her younger brother, making no attempt to hide her annoyance.

Asyllus closed his book, and as if on cue, the door to the quarters opened, getting both noble children to turn their heads. In the doorway stood the final member of the royal trio, their brother Tyrius. He stumbled in, holding a plate of food in each hand, silverware stacked atop said food. He shut the door behind him with his foot, looking back and forth at his brother and sister.

"Did I interrupt something?" he asked innocently.

Asyllus side-eyed his sister.

"No, just Atalliana musing about the tempestuous relationship between herself and the waters we find ourselves on," he teased.

She rolled her eyes.

"Tempestuous? You really think you're clever, don't you?" she asked.

Tyrius walked over to Asyllus, handing him a plate of food, for which his elder brother thanked him.

"No, just eager to use any version of the word 'tempest' in a sentence," he said before he took a bite, "I like that word. Rolls off the tongue,"

She nodded to Tyrius as she accepted her own plate, allowing Tyrius to grab a seat on the side opposite of Asyllus. He looked at both of his siblings, now focused intently on the food in front of them, wondering why they were deliberately putting themselves in each other's presence. They were both perfectly pleasant to him, but they fought one another like cats and dogs when left to their own devices. Spending time with each other in such a cramped environment was a recipe for disaster, which confirmed to him that deep down, they both secretly enjoyed ripping into one another.

There was enough blonde hair in that room to build some kind of bizarre scarecrow. Tyrius, the youngest of the three, had a stocky build and a light beard and goatee that made him look very much like their father, King Andromedus. He was the shortest, but also the most muscular of the three, even though his sister could handily beat him whilst sparring.

Atalliana and Asyllus looked quite similar, both taking after their mother more. Both of them slender and endowed with far longer flaxen hair, Asyllus's reaching his neck and Attaliana's reaching to her lower back. Both had narrow frames, but were still well-built, as they all kept up their training regiments even in their rather… adverse circumstances. Atalliana had an aura about her that made her intimidating even when she was at her most pleasant, and Asyllus was a lively smooth-talker, two personalities that often clashed… even if tonight they seemed to be duller than ever. Traveling had really taken the spirit out of them, and Tyrius didn't like seeing them so thoroughly… not themselves, even if it meant them actively shouting at each other rather than escalating to, at worst, petty annoyance.

"So…" Tyrius said, attempting to break the silence with some good news, "Dannigan was topside when our cartographer was going over routes with the crew, apparently we've managed to shave off a day with this wind,"

Atalliana breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ah, finally, news that doesn't make me want to hurl myself overboard," she said, her expression softening.

Seeing Atalliana both wearing casual clothing rather than armor AND in a relatively pleasant mood was a rarity among rarities. It actually felt off-putting, considering her normal disposition and reputation.

They didn't call her the 'widowmaker' back home for nothing.

Asyllus threw his head back and smiled.

"He managed to catch a window for our arrival time?" he asked Tyrius.

"Sometime tomorrow evening, give or take an hour depending on how long the wind lasts," he said, "They said definitely before midnight,"

"Not bad," Asyllus said, placing his hands behind his head as he laid down on the couch more properly.

"All this for a fucking treaty," Atalliana said, her terminal unpleasantness returning, "Trade negotiations. The single most boring thing in the known universe,"

"Now, I wonder, what would dear old dad say if he heard you being so dismissive of this very serious job he handed to you personally?" Asyllus taunted.

"Is that a threat?" she growled without missing a beat.

Asyllus laughed, and Tyrius just sighed.

"No. It was a provocation. How often are you going to fall for those? It's not like I'm particularly subtle," he said smugly.

"Would it be particularly subtle if I impaled you on the ship's mast?" she asked, mimicking his tone of voice.

"No, actually. It would not," he responded plainly.

She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

"No matter how tedious this affair ends up being, at least I can count on these Ylisseans to be more bearable than you. Though that bar is fairly low, so excuse me if I don't jump for joy," she remarked, "Just don't run your mouth or make us look bad in front of their King,"

"Exalt," Tyrius corrected.

She looked at her other brother skeptically.

"What?" she asked, mostly confused rather than annoyed.

"Titles are different. Over there the 'King' is called the 'Exalt'," he elaborated.

Atalliana chuckled.

"That's awfully pretentious," she said, "Almost hope he gets under my skin now. Haven't been in a good fight in far too long,"

"Now, correct me if I'm wrong," Asyllus said, raising his head in the air and pointing his finger upward, "But getting into a 'fight' with a 'King'-"

"Exalt," Tyrius once again corrected.

"-right yeah, 'Exalt'," he continued, "But getting into a fight with him, that would be… ah… come now, what's the word I'm looking for?"

"An act of war?" Tyrius suggested.

Asyllus snapped his fingers.

"Ah, yes, that's it. War," he explained, "Which would kind of defeat the purpose of this little visit, now wouldn't it?"

She rolled her eyes yet again.

"Gods be damned Asyllus, can a girl not indulge in hyperbole every once in a while?" she spat, "I'm not an idiot. And you know as well as I have that war isn't exactly off the table,"

Asyllus shrugged.

"Yeah, I'm well aware. Just don't want you to lose your cool just because you and father happen to think the Exalt is a bit soft. Hardly a reason to start something,"

Tyrius grit his teeth. Asyllus was playing his hand a bit early, and he knew it wouldn't go over well.

"If he's soft he deserves it," she muttered, grabbing her plate and standing up, assumedly headed to her bed below deck, "Try not to fuck anything up while I'm asleep,"

She intently stepped toward the door, giving Asyllus a fierce glare before she exited the room. Once she shut the door, allowing a but of the ocean breeze to seep in. Asyllus laid back nonchalantly as Tyrius ran his fingers through his hair.

"Is there a reason you so deliberately antagonize her?" he asked.

Asyllus scoffed.

"I wouldn't call it that, exactly. I'm calling her bluff," he said.

"And how do you figure that?" Tyrius asked, his older brother clearly operating on something unbeknownst to him.

Asyllus sat up, facing his brother as he leaned forward, his hands coming together as his fingers interlocked in front of him, resting his elbows on his knees. A telltale sign he was thinking intently.

"She wants to start a war, brother. She's not joking," he said, dead serious.

Tyrius apprehensively chuckled.

"Come now, I know she's restless and she's not exactly the most amicable woman alive but you can't seriously think she'd start a war-"

"I most certainly can," he interrupted, "They prepared for it. We've been smuggling ships in and out of their ports for nearly a week now just in case, if things go south, she has a failsafe, which means she will do just that, if provoked enough,"

Tyrius still wasn't convinced. Their sister was a warrior of great renown, and had recently been in talks to be made commander of the imperial army. This mission, to begin and foster an alliance with Ylisse in order to prepare for an upcoming and unfortunately inevitable war with Dratalia, another overseas country, was of severe importance, and it surprised the three siblings greatly when they were trusted with it.

"I don't know… this feels like a bit of a stretch. She's still our sister,"

Asyllus laughed that off instantly.

"Tyrius I do love you, but you're naive if you think familial relation bars our family from being capable of atrocities," he reminded him.

Tyrius couldn't argue with that, even if he had a hard time reconciling that his sister was truly capable of such wanton bloodshed… for which there was ample evidence, unfortunately.

"Fair enough, but she's doing this for father. She wouldn't risk messing this up considering what's at stake. She'd be passed up for a position she certainly wants AND she'd start a war with a country who unified little more than a year ago. You've heard the stories, right? I have it on good authority there was a dragon. Or a demon. Or both,"

Asyllus shrugged.

"There's always a dragon. Or a demon. Or both," he said, "However that's not the point. Firstly, war with Ylisse would be a pain in the ass, for sure, but let me ask you this: do you think we could win?"

Tyrius had to think on that. His older sister may have been eyed for a prestigious military position, but he was still the youngest general in the army, earning his position, not through nepotism, but bravery in battle. His sister earned hers through a fear-inducing reputation. In terms of strategic skills, they were both about equal, which made whatever his evaluation was likely to be similar to Atalliana's. All that said, Asyllus was the strategist of the family, and whatever his answer was would more than likely be the correct one.

"I don't know," Tyrius said, "Maybe. It's certainly not impossible,"

Asyllus pointed at him.

"As long as she knows failure isn't inevitable, she'll cling to that. Do you know how many major conflicts Vallethea has been in since we've been alive?"

Just a little over twenty years for all three of them… he had to think hard to remember. He figured he'd have to account for the two-year difference in between each of them, so technically he had to go as far back as Atalliana's birth twenty-five years ago.

"Six," he answered.

"How many times have we won and expanded our territory?" Asyllus pressed.

"Six," he answered again.

"Exactly," he said, a wary look overtaking his face, "We have a perfect track record and the element of surprise on our hands. It isn't smart to overestimate, but in her eyes, we're more than capable,"

Tyrius shook his head.

"That still doesn't account for the resources and time it would cost us. We'd lose soldiers. Food. Money. We need that for Dratalia. She knows that," he insisted.

Asyllus scoffed.

"Please, if we found a way to siege the capital of Ylisse, we'd take Ferox in the north, we'd take Plegia in the south, and we'd take Chon'sin and Valm in the west in a matter of weeks. They still haven't entirely finished rebuilding yet, they'd likely surrender-"

"Allowing us to absorb their soldiers and have the largest military force on the planet," Tyrius finished in disbelief.

"Exactly," Asyllus said, sitting back, "Whether or not they agree to the treaty or its conditions is irrelevant. Personally, I think this is a test,"

"Of what nature?" Tyrius asked.

"For her," he motioned to the door their sister had left a few minutes ago, "Father thinks Ylisse has been ruled by weaklings ever since the first Exalt's daughter was forced to take the throne. Then she died and that led to the new Exalt. Tell me, just what exactly has he done with his years on the throne?"

"Well," Tyrius began, recalling their briefing on the country they were headed to before they had left, "He… unified the country, defeated a Warlord, and basically quelled all dissent. It's peaceful there,"

Asyllus looked at his brother expectantly.

"Father is testing her," he declared, "He wants to see if she despises the Ylisseans perceived weakness as much as he does. He wants her to instigate a war. Even if she doesn't, the job will be done, but this is about more than that. He knows I don't want the throne, and even if I did he'd never give it to me. Dimitirus…"

He paused for a moment, allowing both men to think about their embarrassment of a brother.

"Well if he doesn't drink himself into an early grave first, of course, but if he was offered the throne? He'd never take it, that layabout. And you?" Asyllus finished with hesitation.

He swallowed, locking eyes with his younger brother.

"He knows you'd make a good king. But not his vision of a good king. I know we have our differences, but this is our first official mission for our family. We have to face facts. Father is a warlord who profits from suffering. He knows you would take the throne, but he wants Attaliana to prove herself as his worthy successor. She obviously wants this. I know you may doubt me… but it's true," he said.

Tyrius did not expect to come to face so many uncomfortable truths that evening.

Asyllus looked at him with a pleading gaze. He rarely ever saw his brother, the picture of confidence, so openly vulnerable.

"You know Father knew the current Exalt's father, right? He was the one who helped put him in a position of power. They were war buddies since before Vallethea was even a proper territory. They were cut from the same cloth. So you tell me, what would our father have done if he ruled Ylisse? After the Plegian conflict,"

Unlike throughout most of this conversation, Tyrius hardly had to think twice about his answer.

"He would've conquered Plegia, then the north, then all of Chon'sin and Valm. Completely. He'd depose all leaders and unify the continent as one territory so the Ylissean government would rule unopposed rather than remain an alliance," he said.

"So you see what I mean now, right?" Asyllus asked, "Trust me, brother, I'm not being paranoid. The sea isn't driving me mad. I know what this is. He sees Ylisse and he takes personal offense that the legacy under which that land was founded is being betrayed by… peace. Of all things,"

"Why send us with her?" Tyrius asked, "He knows you're… well… he knows you don't approve of his leadership. He knows I follow orders but surely he knows I'd side with you before I'd side with Atalliana,"

Asyllus looked stunned for a moment.

"You would? Truly? If it came to that?" he asked in disbelief.

Now it was Tyrius's turn to be surprised.

"Of course I would… Asyllus… I know I seem like a lapdog at times but… I do what father says so I can work hard. Earn respect. It may be slow and it may not yield anything immediately, but I want to change this country for the better. As much as I admire how outspokenly you oppose him and the aristocracy, I don't see how you can truly seek the change you desire with your methods. It's… impractical, even if you're right,"

Asyllus looked touched. He had always been far closer to Tyrius than his other siblings, and that sentiment ran both ways, but when it came to their long-term goals, he didn't know his brother looked at him that way. He considered him naive rather than looking at him as someone who wanted exactly what he did: change.

He leaned forward once again.

"I think then, we must consider that father sent us along as part of a test. He knows what he's doing. He wants to see if she truly has it in her, and wants to see if she can do it despite our opposition. He knows we'll fight for peace until it isn't on the table anymore… this is a game. He's not testing her, he's testing all of us. He's just betting on her,"

As much as Tyrius didn't hate his father as Asyllus did, it was not out of character to do something like this.

"You don't think… he'd send us here with the intention of having her kill us to see this through, do you?" Tyrius asked.

Asyllus tried his best to not let his bias cloud him.

"I think that is certainly possible, yes," he said plainly.

It was Asyllus's turn to grit his teeth.

"This is our chance. We can finally start to enact some true change if we hold the line and make peace. Just think, with the Ylisseans at our side, we'd have an entirely new angle for the Dratalian conflict. We'd have a beacon of hope at our side, willing to make peace first and foremost. This Exalt could help us make waves, Tyrius,"

He was correct. Vallethea was a superpower, but Ylisse was no slouch. If they could approach the conflict as a joint venture, they could feasibly avoid not just one costly war, but two. Their father had the final say on all their actions, but they'd have someone else who didn't operate under his rule. Someone with power.

"So then what do we do?" Tyrius asked, sounding rather helpless.

Asyllus smiled.

"We play the game, of course," he said, "And we beat him. Do whatever we can to steer our dear sister from playing on the offensive when we arrive. I can take the part of the diplomat and strategist, you can be the practical economic advisor. If he sent us here to test us, to see if we can thwart her, we do just that. We make friends, we smile, we nod, and we make sure Atalliana doesn't get too aggressive… and we do our best to stay alive considering the very real possibility that she will kill us,"

Tyrius swallowed.

"Would she really? Kill us?" he said.

Asyllus chuckled.

"She'd hire assassins for you. She'd kill me personally," he said, "Who knows? She may even keep you alive, she doesn't view you as a threat like she does me,"

"And if she finds out I conspired against her, with you?" he continued.

"She'd certainly kill you as well. Perhaps a bit more stubbornly, but she'd do it," he said, "Tyrius, if we're really going to do this, I need you to promise me that we'll see this through to the end. At all cost,"

Tyrius knew what his brother was asking, and he knew that deep down, they did indeed want the same thing. This was a shining opportunity, as much an opportunity for them as it was her.

It would be one hell of a game of tug of war.

"I promise," he assured, "To the end,"


	2. In The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the party, the Shepherds return home to rest, but the night yields troubles for some of them. The following morning, the approach of the Valletheans begins to make waves throughout Ylisstol in many forms. While initially not thought to be anything more than an inconvenience, the arrival of the royal trio sets a terrifying precedent.

Cynthia enjoyed stepping along the busy streets in the middle of the morning on her day off. She got to summon some of her usual trademarked pep as she saw people shopping and running around with friends and family. A healthy little reminder of the peace they achieved was getting to see everyone just go about their lives in a way they couldn’t during wartime. Curfews. Limits of one shopper per household. Constant mistrust brewing about. Chrom received pushback when implementing these policies, but it reduced the overall level of risk people in cities that were likely to be attacked would face. Thankfully no such attacks happened, but it still let people know he had their best interest at heart.

She didn’t have anywhere specific to go, it was just nice to get out on days like this where the sun was out and the sky was blue. She even had a few people recognize her and wave to her. The Shepherds were minor celebrities in their home countries, a vanguard of heroes that people told stories about… even if they were occasionally embellished. Between teaching new Pegasus Knights in training over at the school with her mother and Cordelia, she was a relatively popular girl. 

Another pro of being one of the Shepherds was that since there were so many of them, it never really took long for her to run into one of her friends.

Walking down the street, on the opposite side and walking in the opposite direction, Cynthia spied her parents and Owain walking together, which was slightly unusual. Owain typically trained day and night or did some easy mercenary jobs for money when he could. As far as she knew he wasn’t particularly close with her parents, though they seemed to be talking intently. Even seeing her parents out like this odd, were they on some kind of lunch date perhaps? It did sound like something Gaius would’ve done for his wife on her day off, any excuse to spend time with her and grab something sweet. She occasionally found it difficult not to gush over how cute a couple she thought they were. Sumia, the unassuming and klutzy knight of infinite duty, and Gaius the smooth-talking former thief with a surprising romantic streak. It was never boring in their house.

She waded through the crowd of people to reach them, just to stop by and say hello (and potentially be a bit nosy as to what Owain was doing there) to them. As she drew closer, much to her surprise, they were with someone else as well. Someone wearing a cloak and a hood that hid their identity at the angle she approached from. Goodness, why wasn’t she invited to this little party.

Once she made her way over to them, she tapped her mom on the shoulder, who jumped a bit until she turned around, Owain and Gaius following suit. 

“Hey mom!”

“Hey Cynthia,” she said.

Cynthia anticipated a hug that didn’t come. She stiffened a bit. Her mother didn’t ever shy away from public displays of affection. She didn’t look like she was angry or annoyed. Same with her father. 

“What are you guys doing here?” she asked.

“Just out and about,” Gaius said casually, “Nice day though, huh?”

“Yeah,” Cynthia agreed, slightly confused since something about her father’s tone of voice felt off.

Were they about to play some kind of prank on her? She resisted the urge to jump on the hooded person who still hadn’t turned around, positive that it was Lissa about to dump a bucket of water on her. 

“Who's your friend?” Cynthia asked, trying to mask her lighthearted suspicion.

Their faces grew still. Indifferent. 

The world around Cynthia stopped. Everything was still, and there was no noise beyond her slowly escalating breathing. 

The cloaked figure turned around slowly, and the sky overhead lost all color, the world around her losing it’s detail as it revealed itself to be a colorless void that contained them all. The figure took down her hood, revealing her face, as indifferent as the others around her. Unfeeling, but somehow harsher. A pit formed in her stomach.

It was Panne. 

It came in raining fire. An inferno of shadow and flame that swallowed everything around her. A pillar of blinding light that cut through the darkness that nearly blinded her, the sound of anguished screams all swirling together into one primal, hellish sound that felt like she was being ripped apart as she heard it. It was an apocryphal sight, something that even the horrors she had seen in her home timeline couldn’t compare to. Her parents and Owain torn to shreds, but Panne standing there amidst the chaos, her eyes black as the abyss that felt like they were drawing everything they saw into them, herself included.

Cynthia saw it happen all over again.

Panne, in her human form, jumped in front of her. The javelin that had been tossed her way pierced the Taguel’s neck. Cynthia was much shorter, had the woman not taken the blow, it would have gone straight through her skull.

Cynthia couldn’t move, she only stared at Panne’s corpse atop the bloodied battlefield. Nothing around her was real, she existed in an orb of unreality where only what was directly in front of her truly existed. It was instant. Her body was limp, she had barely made a sound beyond a harsh gurgle when blood filled her lungs in the brief seconds she was conscious before her light faded. She hadn’t even said anything, her face buried in the grass. 

Cynthia still wondered what her face would’ve looked like. Unceremoniously lying there, no heroism, no final words, just the cold embrace of bitter emptiness.

Just like in reality, she recalled Severa then tackling her to the ground to keep her from being on the receiving end of another projectile, cracking one of her ribs. She couldn’t even move of her own accord when Panne had given her another shot.

The last thing she heard was the sound of her own angry, embittered voice.

“It’s all your fault,” 

* * *

“Cynthia?! Cynthia please wake up honey. Cynthia?” her father’s voice rang out.

She bolted upright, her breathing heavy and labored as her eyes shot open, like a bolt of adrenaline had been shot through her body. She was covered in sweat, her hands were shaking, her arms ached with a pain she’d never felt before, and tears streamed down her face even though she wasn’t actively crying.

She looked down at her hands, palms facing upwards, horrified to discover there was blood and small chunks of skin under all her fingernails. Both of her forearms had been raked mercilessly, lines of blood and irritated skin starting at her palms and going down to the interior side of her elbows. 

“Naga,” her father whispered, quickly getting up and grabbing bandages and disinfectant from the adjoining bathroom as fast as he could, not wanting her to be alone for a single second longer than was necessary.

She looked around her room, it was clearly the middle of the night still, her bedside lamp had been lit by her father, allowing a dim orange glow amidst the near dark blue of the early morning hours. She looked around to see her bedroom look exactly how she had seen it before she fell asleep. She still couldn’t stop shaking.

Gaius put a warm wet rag against her arms, cleaning them, doing his best to be gentle with his dexterous hands. He did so quickly, but before he could reach to grab the disinfectant, Cynthia leaned forward to hug Gaius, finally allowing herself to cry.

He was apprehensive at first, not sure what was the right thing to do or say. When it came to parenting, he knew next to nothing, and was still largely unconfident in what little knowledge he had. He’d learned mostly through osmosis with Sumia, allowing her to pass on whatever advice she had, since she was naturally just better with children. 

He decided to abandon all pretense and just act like a human being first and a parent second, returning his daughter’s embrace as she weeped into his shoulder. His parental instincts may have been lacking, but his heart still ached for the girl. She sounded so much younger when she cried, evoking something primal and empathic in him. He still felt the need to protect her and keep her safe, even if he didn’t know how.

He leaned back when she eased up slightly, gently pulling her arms out in front of her so he could dab the wounds with disinfectant. It was so sudden it didn’t feel real. If Cynthia had night terrors before this, they didn’t know about them, which was a terrifying prospect.

He wrapped the bandages around her arms quickly, something he got quite good at during the war, and fastened them both with two safety pins he found in the drawers. Cynthia merely stared at him and sniffled. 

“Let me go get your mother, okay?” Gaius said, doing his best to sound comforting.

She grabbed him by the arm.

“Please,” she said weakly, “Don’t wake her up if she’s still asleep… I don’t want to bother here. Just stay here with me, please?”

Gaius hesitated, but nodded, sitting up on the bed next to her as she lay her head down on his shoulder, tears still forming in the corner of her eyes.

“You aren’t bothering her, Cynthia. She’s your mother. She loves you,” Gaius said.

“I know,” she breathed, “But I feel bad… did I wake you up?”

Gaius shook his head.

“No, I was awake, thought I heard something and… well, lo and behold,” he said.

He wanted to try and ask if this was the first time this happened, but now probably wasn’t the best time to pry. She didn’t need that. That begged the question: what did she need?

He knew what this was about. Cynthia was inconsolable for weeks even after the war was over. They asked her to see a post-war trauma counselor, a position and field of study Chrom made adequate room for in his cabinet after the first Plegian conflict, and things got better after that. Cynthia had been so busy after the obvious symptoms disappeared that he just figured she was better now… which obviously wasn’t the case. 

“Cynthia,” he began softly, “If we talk about… what we’re about to talk about, will you promise to be honest with me?”

She glumly nodded.

Gaius wished he could be more useful, all things considered. It didn’t take a genius to know where the source of her trauma was rooted.

He was so out of his elements, but he had to do something. She managed a nod, letting him continue.

“Look, I’m not going to pretend to be an expert at this stuff. We’ve known each other for two years, we had to deal with all that time travel hocus pocus, you’re basically as old as I am, and even if you weren’t, I’m still not convinced I’d be good at this whole ‘dad’ thing,” he told her.

She raised up her head, wiping off her face and forehead with her sleeves, looking her father in the eye. She wanted to protest, but he wasn’t finished.

“But I care about you. You’re my kid. So, I guess what I’m saying here is that I wish I could make it all go away, cause if I could, I would,” he said.

She sniffled again.

“Thanks dad,”

It would probably take another year for him to properly get used to being called that.

“You know, I had a lot of bad dreams too, back when I first joined Chrom and all those guys,” Gaius said. 

“You did?” she asked.

He nodded.

“I don’t know if anybody’s told you this, but before I joined… I really wasn’t a ‘good guy’- in fact, I joined Chrom out of pure chance. At the time, it simply benefited me,” he explained.

She looked a trifle confused. She couldn’t imagine her father as being anyone other than what she saw right now. In her original timeline, he was almost exactly the same. 

“I was a criminal, Cynthia. I was a thief for hire. I did a lot of bad things, I hurt a lot of good people. Do you know what I was doing when the others found me?” he asked.

“N-No,” she answered hesitantly.

“I was working for the people who were going to assassinate Chrom’s older sister Emmeryn. I didn’t know it at the time, but that doesn’t really change anything, if you ask me,” he said a bit more monotone than he had been previously, remorse bleeding into his tone.

Cynthia didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t see her father as being a more hardened man than he appeared, he always had a roguish swagger about him that separated him from the more knight-like Shepherds, but this as the furthest cry from her mother’s background she could fathom.

Gaius scoffed a little at himself.

“I got mixed up in a lot of bad things. I walked myself right to the edge and almost got an innocent man and his daughter killed, and I probably would’ve followed close behind them if I didn’t come to my senses. You know Maribelle, right?” he asked.

Cynthia nodded, still in disbelief.

“I almost framed her father to get out of a tight spot once. Nearly got him and her both killed…” he said, nearly trailing off as he recalled the pain of his actions, “After I did the right thing, I still couldn’t really change. It was who I was. But that night I met Chrom… When I learned the people who hired me were going to kill Emmeryn, that was the last straw. I agreed to work with the Shepherds and they took me in. Even still, that shit kept me awake at night. I’d wake up in a cold sweat, remembering everything I’d done, thinking about how I didn’t deserve anything I’d been given,”

For the first time since she’d met this incarnation of her father, she felt like she connected with him. Even the Gaius of her timeline had never told her this. She was slightly frightened, but his weakness and remorse was something she saw herself in.

“How did you deal with the dreams?” she asked him.

Gaius took a deep breath.

“I think it was Tharja who helped me with that,” he recalled, “They wouldn’t go away on their own, they were stubborn… but then again that may have been more of my own fault considering how damn stubborn I am,”

He said that with a good-natured tone in his voice, allowing Cynthia a mild smile.

“She cooked up some concoction for me. Took it every night before bed for a month, helped me sleep like a baby,” he elaborated, “But after that, they still showed up. As time went on they were less and less frequent, but I think they got better once I really started talking to everyone. Made friends. You’re already halfway there, kiddo. You’re a fearless fighter and I’m proud of you. You’re a good kid, and I know I’m far from the only person who knows that,”

Cynthia nodded. Perhaps closing herself off from everyone wasn’t the best thing to do. It sounded silly that she thought it would work to begin with now, but perspective made everything feel silly.

“I know I’m not easy to talk to,” he said, “So… ya know, I get it. But I am here. So is your mother. It’s not a burden, I promise you. You’ve got your friends, right? You talk to them?”

She shied away from his slightly hopeful gaze.

“Y-Yeah but I don’t talk to them as much as I should,” she admitted, “I’m just scared…”

“Don’t be,” he said plainly, “They’re your friends, and they love you. I do too. I know it doesn’t do you a lot of good now, but it gets better with time, I promise. I tell you what, I’m gonna run by Tharja’s tomorrow and ask her for some of that concoction for you, see if that’ll help put a dent. Just promise me if you wanna talk about stuff, go to someone you trust. Open up a little bit. Doesn’t have to be me… hell might be helpful if it isn’t me,”

Cynthia gave him a very light, playful punch, followed up by a slightly unexpected hug.

“You’re a good dad,” she whispered.

His eyes popped open slightly. Usually it took something exceptionally sweet of Sumia to say to get him to feel all mushy inside, but hearing that from Cynthia suddenly made him feel like his change from the man he was to the man he became was a worthwhile one.

They pulled apart from one another, and Gaius stood, stretching his limbs as he looked down at the girl who had his exact orange/caramel-colored hair and her mother’s beautiful saucer-like eyes. She looked better, more calm, but this wasn’t going to go away overnight.

“Also if you want my advice,” Gaius followed-up, “I’d recommend a quick bath. Ain’t no feeling worse than waking up and having your sweaty clothes cling to you. Might help clear your head, usually helped me,”

As Cynthia had simmered down, she was much more aware of how gross she felt. She couldn’t have gone back to sleep feeling like that even if she wanted to.

She nodded, and he leaned over to give her an encouraging pat on the head, ruffling her hair a bit.

“I’ll be up a little while, okay? Even if I’m asleep I won’t mind, just wake my lazy ass up. You’re important,” he awkwardly assured her, “I’ll talk to your mom in the morning, fill her in myself so we don’t have to make this even more uncomfortable for ya,”

He was really trying. For Cynthia, that was enough right now. 

She finally smiled in a fashion more becoming of her as her father exited the room. A smile that, unfortunately, ran away quickly when her mind wandered exactly where it shouldn’t have in the following seconds.

“Hey dad?” she asked, more softly again this time.

Gaius spun around, giving her his attention.

“Yeah?” 

Cynthia looked down at the carpet as she spoke.

“Maribelle… did she ever forgive you for what happened?” she asked.

Gaius hadn’t mentioned where that little debacle led, only natural she ask about it, all things considered.

“Yeah,” he said, “As a matter of fact, she did,”

She nodded, taking that in for a moment. She looked back up at Gaius, who looked a little worried again.

“That’s good,” she said, “Love you dad,”

His look of relief returned.

“Love you too,” Gaius said, “Sweet dreams, and don’t forget to change your bandages after your bath, might wash away the disinfectant,”

As he exited the door, Cynthia knew she felt better, but there was an undercurrent of sadness still permeating the air. She wanted to deal with this, make it go away if possible, and it seemed like she was going to get the chance to do just that. 

The only trouble was, unlike her father, the person she had failed wasn’t alive to forgive her. The only thing that could give her complete absolution didn’t exist anymore. 

She shuddered, trying to force those thoughts out of her brain. Thoughts that said the same thing over and over again, the only relief from which she could get was unattainable. Maybe, in time, she could forgive herself. Maybe. But the question remained: would Panne?

_ “It’s all your fault," _

* * *

“You’ve really got to stop letting me drink so much,” Noire half-slurred, “I blame you for my inevitable hangover,”

Lucina laughed as she got into bed, laying down next to Noire. Once they returned from the party, they both had to go and put a crying baby Luci to bed, seeing as Sully was recently passed out, and being carried to her bedroom by Chrom. It took a good while, pushing both girls past their breaking point, so they were both beyond tired.

“I’ll make you an omelet for breakfast in the morning. And we can go get dinner somewhere nice later,” Lucina offered with a tired smile.

Noire turned to face her girlfriend, cracking one eye open.

“I w-wasn’t trying to get you to spoil me… but if you insist,” she said, returning Lucina’s expression.

“I’m not spoiling you,” she insisted, leaning in to give her a brief kiss, “I’m taking you out because tomorrow is special,”

Noire’s other eye popped open with immediacy. 

“Special? Oh Gods be damned did I forget our anniversary? I thought that wasn’t for another two weeks,” she exclaimed in a mild panic.

Lucina chuckled.

“Firstly, I’m  _ not  _ the type of girl to blow up because you forgot an anniversary. Mainly because I will most definitely forget one day,” she said humorously, “Secondly, you’re right, our anniversary isn’t for another two weeks. I just happened to remember tomorrow makes eight perfect months since you found me all alone in that tent I used to sleep in,”

It had truly felt like so much more time had passed since that fateful night, but in the best of ways. Noire couldn’t believe the princess had remembered it down to the day. 

Lucina had found it difficult to sleep, adjusting to normal life after the war. She simply couldn’t rest in that comfortable royal bed she slept in now, having to resort to setting up a makeshift tent in the backyard that allowed her a sense of familiarity. A struggle Noire observed from afar that led to her approaching her one night, a night they both looked back on fondly as it had been the unofficial beginning to their relationship.

Noire softened a bit, recalling that very memory.

“Thank God we were both drunk that night,” Noire said with a content sigh, “I don’t know if I would’ve been able to get all of that out in the open,”

“ _ You, Luci. Our fearless leader. Who could be afraid of nightmares with someone like you looking out for them?”  _ Lucina theatrically quoted the phrase Noire had said to her to make her fall for her like some dumb, smitten teenager… which they really weren’t too far away from, in all honesty.

Noire turned pink.

“You r-remember that? That’s so sweet,” she said.

Lucina nodded, nestling up to the blonde and placing her arm around her.

“Of course. It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me,” Lucina told her.

“You really are my knight in shining armor,” Noire said timidly.

Lucina chuckled.

“We’re disgustingly sappy. We need to be thrown in some kind of jail for saying things like this and meaning it,” she chuckled.

Noire turned around, allowing herself to be spooned in the position that normally got the both of them to go to sleep fastest.

“As long as you know I mean it,” Noire said, kissing Lucina’s hand.

“Always,” she assured her.

“G’night Lucina,” Noire hummed.

“Goodnight Noire,”

* * *

Nah knocked on the door nervously, wondering if she was either too drunk or not drunk enough. It wasn’t exactly like this was new, or like this was the first time she’d gone there, but it definitely never stopped feeling like a secret worth hiding. A secret that involved feelings she didn’t feel equipped to properly define.

But it was also exciting.

She heard the  _ pitter-patter  _ of a pair of dainty feet come down the wooden steps, and as the sound got closer, her heartbeat picked up. It wasn’t like anyone unexpected was going to answer the door, but it still held this strange allure to her. Being out there in the middle of the night, sneaking out of her own house, it was like an adventure. 

The door opened and there stood Maribelle, wearing a pair of adorable pink slippers and a matching fancy nightgown. She rubbed her eyes, blinking to see if she was actually seeing what she thought she was.

“I’m so sorry, did I wake you?” Nah asked, feeling even worse than she already did for the impromptu visit.

Maribelle stretched briefly, yawning in an effort to wake herself up, her confused expression quickly becoming a warmer (but still tired) one. She looked at her through lidded eyes that grew wider by the second.

Nah looked positively enchanting, to the point where Maribelle felt like she was hideously underdressed even though this was a surprise visit. She had no reason to feel unkempt or unsightly, especially considering where she suspected the night was about to go, but she couldn’t help it. The moonlight danced on the half-dragon’s porcelain skin, her white dress and hair making her look like a woman right out of some forgotten painting you’d find in a gothic mansion. Her boots rode up her long, slender legs, and her eyes were practically glittering despite the lack of light. It wasn’t as if it was entirely one-sided either, even though Maribelle had literally just rolled out of bed, her voluminous blonde hair and weary smile still made her look like an absolute vision. Nah felt like she was weightless in the microscopic silence that existed between the two until Maribelle responded.

“Well, love, I won’t lie to you and say you didn’t, but I can certainly tell you that you shouldn’t worry yourself over it. If I get to see you, it’s well worth it,” she said, her highbrow, aristocratic tone and hint of an eastern accent showing through a little more with each passing syllable. 

“T-That’s awfully sweet of you to say,” she said, blushing.

Maribelle couldn’t believe how taken she was with her. It was like she was a lone beautiful white lily in a meadow. She felt bad, succumbing to such base desires so quickly upon seeing her, but beauty like hers would’ve been criminal not to appreciate fully.

Maribelle took a step forward, bringing the two of them within arms reach of each other.

“So what do I owe such a lovely surprise visit?” she purred.

Nah briefly bit her bottom lip, clearly nervous. Every time they’d met up in the last few months it had been planned out of mutual agreement. More spontaneous offers had been up in the air but never acted on… until tonight. She figured it would be easier than this, but she had no idea how to say it without sounding crass.

“Um… w-well I couldn’t sleep. I was a bit… restless. And I was thinking about you,” she said, trying to force all of that out.

Maribelle cocked an eyebrow.

“You were?” Maribelle asked, “Anything specific you were thinking about?”

Oh now she was just being cruel. The edges of her mouth curled into the faintest of smiles, and all Nah did was blush more.

“I was wondering if… maybe I could spend the night with you… here,” she asked, “If that’s alright. I understand if you’re tired or not in the mood but-”

Maribelle stepped forward, a cat-like grin finally superimposed on her face, looking down at the smaller girl as she drew closer. She lifted up Nah’s head gently by pressing under her chin with one finger. Both of them felt like they were floating as soon as contact between the two was made.

“Darling, how could you expect me to be in any other kind of mood when you show up looking so beautiful?” she asked, her voice softly going from playful to authentic.

Nah closed her eyes, and Maribelle leaned down, kissing the girl’s soft, thin lips with enough passion to let her know she was more than happy to oblige her. Nah didn’t let it end there either, as she snaked one arm over Maribelle’s shoulder, pushing them together to up the intensity further.

Once their lips parted, both women smiled innocently, happily dropping all pretenses and just being themselves, able to enjoy one another’s company.

Maribelle extended her reach after she stepped away, waiting for Nah to place her own hand in her palm.

“May I escort you to the bedroom, mademoiselle?” she offered with a smile far more down-to-earth than most people would see on her.

Nah gave an excited giggle.

“Of course,” she said, placing her hand in the noblewoman’s care, ready to be whisked upstairs.

* * *

The journey to the bedroom didn’t feel real, both girls were too excited at their own lustful prospects to register anything beyond wanting to arrive at their destination. Maribelle’s room, lavishly decorated as if it were some kind of wedding cake, was one of immaculate furnishings that you wouldn’t find in any of the other Shepherd’s homes, and that was fine by Maribelle. During their first night together, Nah remarked that it looked like she lived in a gingerbread house where the gingerbread was just more icing, which Maribelle chose to interpret as a compliment. 

Once they finally arrived at the bed, high thread count pillowcases and sheets awaited them beyond two large veils of see-through fabric hung from the ceiling, hiding the bed within. When the fabric was lifted and once they entered, it made them feel like the entire world had been muted, and only they existed.

They crawled into place onto the center of the bed, legs laying to the side, immediately torsos pressed against each other as they kissed, which went from being soft and sensual to more intense and deep. They were like two drunken teenagers losing themselves in one another, and there were few feelings better than that.

This was pretty much their routine at this point, and it allowed them easier access to each other's clothing. Thankfully Maribelle just had on her nightgown and a pair of comfortable smallclothes, the former of which she disposed of with relative ease. She was delighted to see Maribelle wasn’t wearing a bra, which was new. 

As Nah alternated between making out with the blonde and massaging her breasts with her warm hands, which made Maribelle shiver with delight, Maribelle got to work on Nah’s dress, unfastening the back as she held back moans from the girl’s ministrations.

She finally did away with it until both of them were left in only their underwear, which prompted them both to scurry under the covers of the bed, laying their heads against the pillows as they brought their bodies together after a brief moment of mutual admiration. Maribelle finally got to pay Nah’s breasts some overdue attention, something she very much liked doing because she knew Nah was sensitive about them being relatively small. They both pressed their hands all over the other’s chests, kneading as they kissed with spectacular fervor.

“You’re truly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Maribelle said, breaking away from the kiss for just a moment to get out a kind word.

Nah laughed, fighting the urge to contest that claim, but it felt too good, so she ran with it.

They returned back to their state of mutual play, and Maribelle slid one arm down the other girl’s torso, cupping her rear and squeezing it. Nah yelped, causing another brief fit of laughter, which Maribelle could’ve listened to for hours.

As things became a bit slower, Maribelle moved her hand slowly, palm flat against the other girl’s soft skin, and slipped into the girl’s underwear from the side, ultimately cupping the girl’s sensitive womanhood, prompting a gasp from the dragon girl.

She let out a sharp hiss that melodically eased its way into a soft moan. Maribelle teased her, running her fingers delicately over the girl’s outer lips, which were still incredibly wet. Far too wet to have only been that way for as long as they’d been up there.

“Darling, did you try touching yourself before you came here?” Maribelle cooed.

Nah gave her an urgent nod, still eagerly massaging the blonde’s breasts, readying for one of them to take action.

“I told you love,” she began, leaning in, placing her lips right above the white-haired girl’s ear, “If you’re ever horny, come to me first,”

That last whisper made Nah’s entire nervous system feel like it was on fire. Her voice trickled down her spine like a wave of pleasure, which only intensified when Maribelle teased one finger further inside her.

“I-I didn’t… I felt bad. I didn’t want to w-wake you,” Nah said, voice almost begging with its tone alone.

“But clearly not enough to keep you at home. Did you have trouble getting all the way, my love?” she asked with a voice softer than her bedsheets.

Nah nodded again, eyes wide and begging the woman not to hold on to inaction any longer than she had to. Nah liked to be teased on occasion, but this was just pure desperation.

“As much as I love how you touch me, I don’t want you to suffer any longer. You came all this way, a thirty-minute walk just to be with me? I think you deserve a reward,” she whispered.

Nah’s arms went limp as Maribelle began to pump two fingers inside her, a bolt of pleasure erupting from in between her legs. Mirabelle seized the girl’s open mouth with her own, burying Nah’s muffled moans in her own mouth. Their tongues met, and Nah desperately bucked her own hips forward, one of her willowy legs draping over Maribelle’s waist just to pull them closer together.

She pulled away so they could look at one another in the heat of, what each of them saw heightening their arousal even further. Nah was wetter than she ever had been, and Maribelle couldn’t get enough of it.

“Mari… belle,” she squeaked out, “I… I… oh  _ fuck, _ ”

Maribelle nearly growled, getting an erotically charged curse from the girl in the heat of the moment was a thrill like no other. Nah didn’t even finish what she was trying to say, and instead lunged back for her mouth.

Maribelle accidentally cut her tongue on one of Nah’s sharper fangs, a small amount of blood being caught in their exchange of saliva. Nah didn’t even notice, but Maribelle was slowly growing fond of the feeling, which could only come from both of them being so mutually aggressive that they’d both just lost control, which was a euphoric feeling. 

Nah pulled herself away, nearly making a ‘pop’ noise when their mouths fully separated. Maribelle did nothing but rhythmically finger-fuck the girl as aggressively and as elegantly as possible while still maintaining balance. She could feel her inner walls almost wrapping around her fingers, one of her favorite sensations from their lovemaking.

“Maribelle,” Nah finally groaned out, “Please… baby…”

Maribelle excitedly purred at Nah calling her a pet name, something she didn’t often do but was appreciated for its rarity.

“What, love?” she asked in a harsh whisper, fire in her eyes, “What do you want? Tell me,” 

Nah leaned forward, giving her one more brief, hot kiss before pulling back, matching her playful energy. 

“Your mouth,” she moaned, “Use your mouth,”

Maribelle slowed herself down, nearly getting a whine from the smaller woman, but she leaned in, taking a playful bite into her earlobe before she whispered again:

“Why, baby?” she asked wickedly, “Why do you want my mouth?”

Nah was going absolutely feral, she must’ve looked a mess, almost thrusting her hips to pick up the pace and get Maribelle to continue fucking her.

“B-because… shit…” she said, trying not to trail off, hurriedly rushing out her syllables so she could spur her lover on, “I want your tongue inside me. I love how… s-soft and h-hot your mouth is. P-Please,”

“Please what?” Maribelle asked, furthering Nah’s near-orgasmic agony.

“L-Lick my pussy,” Nah said, her cheeks flushed blood red and her voice needy, “Please. Please eat my pussy. Please,”

Maribelle leaned back, giving her another kiss, and smiled at her, using her other hand to brush some stray hairs out of her face. 

“Anything for you,” Maribelle said, her act disappearing and her face becoming more straightforward and loving, nearly causing Nah to let out a wistful romantic sigh, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” Nah said as Maribelle pressed her lips into the girl’s neck, slowly dragging her tongue down across the surface of her skin.

She slid down, adjusting her position relative to Nah, and then turned her fully onto her back as she grabbed her right breast in one hand, and took the other in her mouth, lazily dragging her tongue across it until she sucked on the girl’s nipple, causing a sharp inhale to occur. She used this time to withdraw her fingers from Nah, which cause her physical anguish, but once she placed herself over her, eyes locking with the now hot and flushed white-haired woman, she languidly wrapped her lips around her wet fingers, licking them clean, and then dove for another kiss with Nah.

As much as she enjoyed herself, she couldn’t torture the poor thing any longer.

Maribelle's hands moved down, hooking her fingers into Nah’s panties and pulling them off swiftly, tossing them to the floor, revealing her prize underneath, the girl’s soaking wet, glistening pussy, like a ripened fruit. She could’ve drooled if she stared at it for too long.

She wasted no time, diving in, licking from the bottom of her slit to the top in long, slow drags, causing Nah to cry out, and grab Maribelle’s hair in one fist, bringing her even closer. Gods, she loved it when she was rough with her.

She locked eyes with her when Nah looked down, burying her tongue inside the girl as she licked around, trying to taste every possible inch of her before she went straight for the climax. She loved hearing the bombastic, symphonic noises of Nah’s sexual cries. She was a tightly wound girl, and Maribelle so thoroughly enjoyed unwinding her. One of the perks of living alone was that she could be as loud as she wanted.

She decided Nah had waited long enough once she had her fill, wrapping her lips around the girl’s clit and sucking lightly, slowly increasing the intensity. She felt like she was playing Nah like an instrument, and the noises she made sure backed up that feeling.

Nah felt a white hot warmth within her, Maribelle could do what most men and women would need both hands and their mouths to do with just her devilish tongue, and she never got tired of it. Being eaten out by someone skilled in the practice was the best sensation she’d ever known, and Maribelle felt like she somehow made it better each time.

“Fuck… Maribelle… Fuck… please,”

Maribelle finally applied her tongue, pressing it into the girl as she sucked harder, allowing Nah to finally cum, relinquishing an orgasm that had been pent up inside her for nearly an hour and a half now. Nah wasn’t normally a squirter, but tonight that seemed to be the exception. Maribelle didn’t complain, as it gave her more to lap up as Nah lay in the afterglow. She didn’t know why as it didn’t do much for her pleasure wise, but she enjoyed cleaning the girl with her tongue, relishing the mess she’d made and getting to taste the results of her work. Nah loved how she dragged her warm tongue inside her still even though she’d cum, around her, on the interior of her thighs and around her slightly puffy lips. The feeling in her lower body was nearly gone after the orgasm, but she loved that she could feel Maribelle still, lovingly touching her skin. Some nights she felt like that could've been enough to satisfy her. 

Maribelle crawled up, looking at Nah, who stared back with the lidded eyes Maribelle had when she’d woken up when Nah first arrived there that night. She leaned in to give her a long, slow kiss, allowing Nah to taste herself on her lips on tongue, a thrillingly scandalous sensation. Post-orgasmic kissing was truly the best kind, when neither party was in a rush and the act itself was the focal point.

She lay back, looking at her lover as she grabbed her by the waist to press them together again. Gods she loved that feeling of closeness. And Nah loved the feeling of being held by someone.

“Did you mean what you said?” Nah asked quietly, “When you said you loved me?”

Maribelle nearly panicked. Had that truly been the first time they said that to one another?

“I did,” she whispered, “Did you?”

Nah pulled back to look at Maribelle, gazing longingly into her eyes.

“I did,” she answered.

Nah hugged Maribelle, in an unexpected turn of events.

“Gods I’m so happy. Maribelle I love you so much,” Nah said with genuine enthusiasm as she eagerly and lovingly kissed the blonde’s neck.

Maribelle loved when she took initiative like that.

They’d been lovers for months, each of them noticing traded and spare glances at one another. The way they were instantly nervous in each other’s presence without knowing why. Tensions got high until one evening Nah dropped by, confessing to the woman that she felt something for her, and didn’t know what to do. Maribelle’s mutual attraction helped things, but since Maribelle and Nah were, to their knowledge, the only example of one of the original Shepherds and one of the children from the other world that were romantically involved, they decided to keep their affair secret. They didn’t want to be scandalous, or be seen as scandalous, hell since Maribelle was one of the younger Shepherds, she and Nah were only a few months apart age-wise. That being said, they still felt strange about it, and as long as the other was happy, they were too. They had gone on dates in a more stealthy fashion, but Nah periodically showing up to make love with her was usually the name of the game.

Maribelle had been lost in thinking about how nice the last few months had been with Nah in them, so she hardly noticed when Nah began sucking on her nipples and massaging her, just as she had done earlier.

The girl’s tongue and overall body temperature was hotter than most because of her species, which made sex even better. Currently it felt like her body was being lightly doused in a warm, comforting flame that brought only pleasure, no pain. She loved having Nah play with that part of her anatomy, as her clothes never really complimented how nice of a figure she had. Something she got to save for her and her alone.

Nah moved down further, shuffling herself under the blankets as she kissed down Maribelle’s toned torso and rock-solid abs. Nah was athletic, but willowy and comparatively soft, whereas Maribelle was a true equestrian when it came to her own build. Calves, thighs, abs, forearms, but somehow it all looked perfectly elegant on her, so much for Nah to fawn over, and so much she loved to have appreciated. 

Nah pulled down Maribelle’s sole remaining article of clothing, and then and only then did Maribelle realize how actually wet she became. Her need felt like it multiplied tenfold.

Nah’s long, hot tongue eased into her pussy slowly, as Nah was drawn in further and further until her lips wrapped around the entirety of her womanhood. Maribelle bucked forward not out of desire, but pure reflex. The way that girl could mouth-fuck her drove her absolutely mad, so when Nah inserted a finger, Maribelle thought she was about to burst.

“Nah, baby,” she said, struggling to get the words out as she was diligently eaten out, “Can you lay down and give an idle girl something to do?”

She tried to say it with confidence but it came out shaky. Nah took a moment to process what exactly she was asking, because they’d never done this before, but she obliged happily. Maribelle had to ask, because if all her attention was focused on how good a job Nah was doing, she felt like she was going to have some kind of involuntary fit.

Nah angled herself properly, still keeping her tongue inside her the whole time so she wouldn’t delay her girlfriend’s pleasure, and once again, Maribelle was greeted by the lovely sight of the girl’s long legs and hot, once again wet, pussy, that she gladly returned to.

She still kept bucking forward, so much so that both girls had the other's head wrapped around their legs, to the point of near suffocation, but they both remained okay, greedily lapping at the other, tasting and feeling each other. Nah didn’t expect to be pleasured so thoroughly again so quickly, so the sounds of them eating the other’s pussy devolved into small, cute noises of gradual and intentful ministration, and moaning because they were close. Maribelle figured it was only fair she use her fingers too.

Maribelle didn’t squirt, but ultimately when Nah finally wrapped her tongue around her clit, she had to briefly take her mouth away from Nah to let out something closer to a howl than anything else. She continually finger-fucked Nah, who simply writhed once she had licked around Maribelle enough, cleaning up her own mess, and came again, squirting just as much as last time.

As they gathered themselves, returning to a more comfortable position on the bed so Maribelled could be the big spoon, it was nothing but panting and sweating, until both girls settled into place, and finally let their bodies relax, the sheets and mattress enveloping them.

“That was the best night we’ve had together,” Nah whispered as the both of them closed their eyes, finally both ready to nearly return to sleep.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Maribelle said, “I look forward to trying to outdo myself from now on,”

They both laughed, knowing their bodies were likely going to ache in the morning beyond comprehension. A small price to pay.

“Do you think so?” Nah asked, “Does that mean this is… official? You’re my… girlfriend?"

Maribelle squeezed the ivory-haired beauty.

“I’m all yours,” she hummed, “And I know it may involve you conjuring up a laborious story to your parents tomorrow, but perhaps you could sleep with me tonight? Our first night as an item?”

Maribelle hardly ever showed weakness, even when she was around Nah, at her most honest, but this was Maribelle’s subtle way of saying ‘please stay, I don’t want you to go’

She feared, at the start of their relationship, that Maribelle had maybe just wanted to be with her because she was lonely. Because Lissa, the girl she loved with all her heart and soul, had eyes for another back when the Shepherds were at their start. Nah feared maybe she was nothing more than a tool, a body to be sued, but she grew to know Maribelle, and knew she wouldn’t do that. Nah bared a slight resemblance to the girl, which didn’t help matters, but it was the way she changed her demeanor when only Nah was around. When they had dinner together by candlelight, when they told stories about one another’s youthful follies before their childhoods were ravished by tragic circumstances. 

She knew she was more than just another person to her, and as someone who grew up thinking she was the last of her kind, someone who would never understand others, or by extension, be understood, it was beautiful to be proven wrong. 

“Stay the night with me, my love,” Maribelle said lovingly, “We can shower together in the morning,”

Nah nodded, turning around, and nestled herself into Maribelle’s ample chest, more comfortable than she had ever been in her entire life. 

* * *

Morgan was somehow lying awake nearly two hours after they got back home. She figured she would’ve past out instantly, but instead her thoughts were filled with Inigo, and how incredibly nervous she was.

“Sev? You awake?” she asked, whispering loudly in the doorway of her sister’s room.

Severa let out a strained groan into her pillow.

“What do you want?” she asked, voice muffled.

“I’m… scared. About tomorrow,” Morgan said, more weakness in her voice than Severa had ever heard.

This prompted her to sit up, looking more like her lower abdomen was forcibly pulling her limp upper-torso and head upward, looking her sister’s way trying not to scowl or radiate her normal intimidating disposition. She knew something was definitely wrong when Morgan didn’t even tease her about her undoubtedly wild hair and generally aggressive bedhead.

She patted the spot next to her on the bed, doing her best to be a proper older sister.

Morgan tiptoed over, hesitantly sitting down, staring at her own feet as she kept her composure. If she was being entirely truthful, she had never been this nervous about anything in her personal life. Even her gnawing, ever-encroaching fear that she’d never live up to her father felt secondary to this.

“What’s up?” Severa asked, sounding slightly more awake.

Morgan sighed.

“I… don’t even know,” she said, “I just can’t deal with this whole ‘someone likes me’ thing. And I-I’ve never been on a date before,”

“Think Inigo is cute?” Severa asked.

“Uh,” Morgan couldn’t believe that was something she had to think about, “Y-Yeah I suppose so. He’s got really pretty eyes… and his hair is nice. Good smile, too,”

Severa almost laughed at how her sister was didactically explaining her attraction. It was pretty much exactly how she suspected she’d process something like this. She had the heart of a warm, kind person but a brain more akin to that of a mathematical formula. 

“He’s charming,” Severa yawned, “He’s a bit of a prick every now and again but when he talked to me he seemed serious,”

Morgan looked more alert at the mention of that.

“What exactly did he say? What did  _ you  _ say?” she asked.

“Just advice on how to best talk to you. I told him not to get his hopes up for good measure, said you might not be interested, but that he should just be as blunt as possible because you’re…”

Morgan blinked, waiting for her to finish.

“Emotionally complicated,” Severa creaked out.

“I’m emotionally complicated?” she asked, totally clueless.

“Well, for what it’s worth, when someone you think is cute asks you out, it’s natural to be nervous,” she elaborated, “But it’s also natural to be excited. Not really the kind of thing to keep you lying awake at night in an existential panic,”

“I’m not in an existential panic,” Morgan said plainly.

“Morgan, I say this as someone who loves you a lot,” Severa said, placing her hand on her sister’s shoulder, “You’re a little strange. And I can tell when something’s really bothering you,”

Morgan’s face crinkled a bit, souring.

“Am I really that transparent?” she asked.

“To me you are,” Severa said, “So tell me, what about this is  _ really  _ bothering you? Because I know it’s not just nerves,”

Morgan felt like it would’ve been easier to write her a book.

“Well… it’s a few things,” Morgan said, “I don’t know how to feel about someone liking me. Like, I guess I’m not  _ bad  _ or  _ ugly _ I suppose-”

“You are not,” Severa said assertively, “Either. But, continue,”

Morgan nodded.

“Well I still just don’t really understand my appeal. Inigo said he really liked me… but why? I just don’t really get it. And I think he’s cute and I’ve always liked talking to him but… would I enjoy a relationship? Is that the kind of thing I would even like? I just don’t know how to feel about anything!” she exclaimed, falling backwards onto Severa’s bed in frustration.

Severa followed in kind, peering over as her sister attempted to blow strands of hair out from over her face from her less-than-elegant fall.

“Well, if you want my advice on everything, here it is,” Severa said, “You don’t need to worry yourself over  _ why  _ he likes you. Or why anyone likes you. Odds are, they have plenty of reasons why and that’s why they came to you in the first place. What you need to focus on is why, if in fact there is a ‘why’  _ you  _ like  _ him _ . It might sound callous but use Inigo as a… trial run, I guess. Use this experience to see if relationships are for you right now. It’s perfectly okay if they aren’t,”

Morgan found comfort in those words, but her apprehension still hadn’t faded.

“But… I dunno, it’s hard when almost  _ everyone  _ in the Shepherds has somebody. And they all seem really happy too, and the thing is I’m pretty happy as is, but it makes me wonder if maybe something is wrong with me? Like, are you incapable of being fully happy without someone?”

Severa felt her heart sink. She could certainly understand why living in an environment like this would foster such emotions, especially in someone like Morgan.

“You absolutely are,” Severa said, looking more serious than she meant to, “It’s perfectly normal to be on your own and still be happy. You’ve got friends who basically serve as a second family, you have mom, dad, me, and Kjelle, and you’re young. Being single isn’t the same thing as being alone. Honestly, until Kjelle came along, I figured I’d be on my own too. Sometimes it just takes the right person, and sometimes it doesn’t. Just do what makes you the happiest. I think everyone in the Shepherds paired up so quickly because it’s just how we all grew up. Our parents were all really close-knit, and they went through a lot together. Same with us, we just didn’t get the luxury of being with anyone back in our time, so it felt like something new and mysterious for us. Just keep in mind, there’s a shitload more friendships between all of us than there are romances,”

Severa didn’t really know where that came from. Maybe that had been dwelling in the back of her thoughts before she and Kjelle started seeing each other. She knew Morgan was an oddball, but she certainly saw a lot of herself in her with this little predicament.

“Thanks Sev,” Morgan nodded, “You really know how to make a convincing argument, you know?” 

She sounded a little better. Severa wore a satisfied smile. 

“I do know, thank you,” she said, “And I’ll help you pick out an outfit and do your hair before your date tomorrow just because I’m feeling nice,”

The thought of appearing presentable didn’t even cross Morgan’s worried mind. She figured Severa might fight her on clothing choice, since she didn’t exactly dress the way a lot of the other girl’s did, but it was nice knowing she cared enough to help her.

“Well, since I’m feeling nice, I’ll let you go back to sleep,” Morgan said as she sat up and stretched, “Sorry for… being weird,”

Severa leaned in to hug her.

“Never apologize for being yourself,” she insisted.

Morgan laughed.

“Oh so myself is ‘weird’ then, huh?” she teased.

Severa rolled her eyes, returning to laying down on her bed like she had when Morgan found her.

“Goodnight you little…” she trailed off grumbling into her pillow near-inaudibly.

She laughed, able to feel relieved that she had someone like Severa looking out for her. Even if she was still monumentally nervous about tomorrow and how it was all going to go.

“Night Sev,” she said, standing up, heading back to bed.

* * *

The next morning was a late morning for everyone. Lots of yawns, lots of half-hour time periods where half-conscious attendees of the party the previous night insisted on being in bed for ‘just five more minutes’- save for the diligently awake Lucina, who was up making Noire breakfast just as she’d been promised. That and Nah, who thankfully snuck back into her own family’s home undetected since her mother was still snoring quite loudly. 

Thankfully almost all of them didn’t have to be anywhere right away, save for Inigo, who found himself already late for rehearsal. He panicked even further as he noted that he promised to bring Owain with him, realizing he was going to be at least another half hour late considering he’d have to take a horse over to the Castle and wake the boy up.

He was going to have to haul ass back home in order to get ready, as he showered quickly and did little else to make himself look presentable. Even his hair was messy today, which under normal circumstances would’ve been absolutely unacceptable. He didn’t really have time to do much complaining though, which was good, because he certainly had no shortage of ammunition when it came to things to bitch about whilst running about. 

Once he got to the castle he realized he had no clue where anyone’s rooms were, which was certainly a problem. No one seemed to be awake just yet, so Inigo did the only thing he could think of in a hurry: follow the smell of whatever was being cooked and hope that someone who knew their way around this monolithic building was at the end of it. 

He at least recognized the final hall that led into the kitchen, giving him some idea where he was after feeling like a rat in a maze. In the kitchen he didn’t find one of the staff members, but Lucina, happily cooking an omelet and some biscuits. He peeked in, trying not to be seduced by the divine smell that tempted his empty stomach.

“Heya there Lucina,” Inigo greeted her.

She had been standing over the skillet, humming to herself, totally absorbed in what she was doing, so even Inigo’s mild greeting was enough to surprise her. She yelped, her wrist flicking upward sending the omelet flying several feet into the air. 

Thankfully, Inigo’s expert balance and coordination from dancing helped him substantially in tight spots like this. He grabbed a cutting board from the table, unable to find a plate, and stuck it out in front of a now-flailing Lucina, letting it drop onto the surface without losing its shape. Thankfully, it was mostly cooked.

Lucina let out a steady exhale, taking the cutting board back and placing the dish back on her skillet. 

“Hey yourself,” she finally greeted back, a mixture of enthusiasm and mild irritation.

“Not to be a bother-”

“Has that ever stopped you before?” Lucina interrupted with a sly smile.

Inigo withheld his light irritation as he really needed to get a move on, but his reputation preceding him was no one’s fault other than his own. He swallowed it with a faint chuckle.

“Sharp as ever, princess,” he said, “Though I was hoping maybe you could help me find Owain? I’m already running late and if he wants to talk to my director about trying out for a part we gotta do it ASAP,”

Lucina nodded.

“Oh I gotcha,” she said, “Hang a left when you head out of here, take the long hallway down south and then hang a right. Owain’s the third door on the left. Don’t slip up and go to the second door, that’s Lissa and Lon’qu’s room, trust me, that guy is not a happy camper in the morning and does not like to be woken up,”

Inigo nodded, taking a few steps backward in the direction of the doorway.

“Thanks! Though if it came down to it I’d much rather deal with your uncle than your aunt. I think Lissa may have trained him,” he joked.

Lucina considered that and found it rather amusing… mainly because he was right.

“Good luck on your date tonight,” Lucina said, her sly smile returning right as Inigo was about to exit, briefly halting him. His posture sunk a bit.

“Ah, I see that’s already making rounds. Should’ve figured,” he sighed.

“Yeah you really should’ve,” Lucina teased, “But seriously, good luck. Morgan’s a cutie. Marry into that family and we could be siblings-in-law,”

Inigo let out an exhaustive sigh.

“Everyone here is always so keen on talking about marriage… haven’t even had our first date yet and I’m being groomed for royalty,” he mumbled.

“Relax, I’m teasing,” she insisted, “I am getting a kick out of seeing the ‘smooth operator’ himself getting his knickers in a twist because he’s smitten,”

“I’m glad my suffering is such a potent form of amusement for you,” he sardonically chided.

Lucina snorted.

“Yo,” she said, keeping his attention for a few more seconds as she tossed him one of the biscuits, smiling as Inigo scrambled to catch it with both hands and cradle it, “Don’t forget to eat. It’d be a recipe for a shitty day if you wore yourself out on an empty stomach,” 

It was incredible to Inigo both how much and how little Lucina had changed over the span of a year. She was certainly more easygoing and learned how to kick back and enjoy things, even if she was stubborn at first. But even still, she was still keeping up her role as the resident den mother for all of them, looking after them in all the little ways only she could. She really was just like her father. 

“Thanks Luci,” he said, “One for Owain, too? Bad to audition on an empty stomach,”

She tossed him another.

“Good luck boys,” she called to him as he caught the second biscuit, immediately running off to grab Owain.

* * *

They arrived at the theater, and by some miracle, everyone was so busy that they slipped in without being pegged as being late. There was a line of people nearly out the door ready for auditions, more than Inigo had ever seen. When Inigo snuck down into the audience seats mostly undetected by everyone, the director and a panel of various other theater heads were sitting in the second row, hands draped over the chairs in front of them as they partook in a heated discussion. Once it lulled and they took to taking more notes before the next person came out, Inigo tugged at the man’s shoulder, ready to do his best with some first-class ass-kissing.

“Eh, Mikael, what’s uh… what exactly is going on?” Inigo asks, genuinely curious as to why they were so swamped.

He was startled for a second, but then looked mildly relieved to see Inigo there, allowing him a sigh of relief. Inigo briefly wondered why it was the second time that morning he had managed to startle somehow with such a normal greeting. 

“Oh, Gods above Inigo it’s a disaster,” Mikael exclaimed in a hushed whisper, “All morning it’s been like this. We’re going to have to postpone today’s rehearsal, there’s just no way,”

“Why are so many people even here to begin with? I didn’t even know it was that big of a deal. It’s an original you wrote, isn’t it?”

Mikael nodded.

“It is, and it looks like it’s going to do well, at this rate,” he said, peering over the line of people, “Even if people are trying out for less-than-honorable reasons… though I suppose there isn’t a vast amount of honor in our profession to begin with though, eh?”

“Less-than-honorable reasons?” Inigo asked, wrinkling his brow.

Mikael leaned in closer.

“Word on the street is that there are foreign dignitaries headed from all the way across the ocean over in Vallethea, and they’re coming  _ here  _ to Ylisstol _.  _ Tonight.. Supposed to be some kind of visit for some treaty, some high-brow nonsense. So now everyone wants a shot at being in our first mock production seeing as they’ll be here a good while and may very well likely head here to pass the time, seeing as we are the only theater in the capital,”

Inigo was stunned. Why in the seven hells was he only just now hearing about this? Why hadn’t Chrom or the others mentioned it last night? Was this some kind of surprise?

“Wait, we’re doing a new mock production for these people? They won’t be here  _ that  _ long. What does that give us, a week to rehearse and coordinate? You can’t be serious,” Inigo exclaimed, “Why not just move forward with the one we’re already doing?”

Mikael shrugged.

“It’s a great opportunity. The Valletheans are wealthy beyond even royal standards, and those snooty aristocrats love their art. If I manage to wow them with something of my own we may end up getting a particularly large patronage from them. You know this place isn’t doing so hot after the war, not everyone in Ylisse has the coin to spend on coming here, we could really use the money,” he said, a look of partial worry overcoming him.

“Okay, fair enough. But is it really that likely? I mean, is it truly worth it? You’re going to work yourself to death, what if they don’t even show up? Maybe this is purely a business meet,” Inigo said with concern.

“Well, like I said, they love their art, it’s a reasonable assumption,” he said, “However, this isn’t just a few politicians or negotiators, the royal family themselves are coming here. Princess and two Princes. So when I’m talking money, I’m talking big money. Potentially ‘enough money to expand overseas to a country with a bigger metropolitan space’ kind of money,”

Inigo’s eyes widened.

“Well… Mikael, you know I have a direct line to the Exalt, right?” he asked him, smile on his face.

He turned his entire body to face Inigo.

“I’m listening,”

Inigo motioned to Owain, who stood a few seats down behind him, aimlessly staring at all the goings on as props were being moved and stagehands were running around like wild animals.

“That right there is the Exalt’s nephew. Lady Lissa’s son Owain-”

“How on earth does Lady Lissa have a son that old-”

Inigo raised up his hand as if to physically wave that question off. There were a lot of murmurs around just who the children were exactly, as some people witnessed Lucina call Chrom ‘dad’ and things of that nature, so it tended to make people talk. Officially speaking, all of the children were known as being relatives of the older Shepherds, but most people didn’t know in what way.

“Details aren’t important,” Inigo said, “The point is, he and I give you a strong connection to Chrom. I am absolutely positive that with our combined efforts we can get Chrom to take them all here for a special showing. I am no expert in geography or politics but I know he’s not adverse to buttering up negotiations with a night on the town. Just give Owain here a part in the production and we can work wonders,”

Mikael’s eyes widened, and then he looked skeptically at Owain.

“Can he act?” he asked.

“He can,” Inigo assured him, “Real flair for the dramatic. Give him something loud and brief. I take it you don’t really have time for an audition to properly size him up…”

Mikael looked briefly at the line.

“Yeah unless you wanna wait in line at the very back, that’s a safe assumption. Can you really get this done? You’re not pulling my leg?” the man asked, still skeptical but tinged with hope.

“We absolutely can,” Inigo said with a charismatic grin.

He handed him a script he had lying on the floor next to him, and crossed out a name on one of his lists.

“Give that to your buddy. Tell him to rehearse and learn his lines, do some work with him. I want you both in here, day after tomorrow, ready to perform your asses off,” he said with a bit of vigor.

Inigo could’ve cheered. The stars seemed to really align for him that day. Not to mention, if this all went smoothly, he could help out Mikael, a man who was essential to fostering his passion in the arts. A kind man who deserved a series win after the war left him and his family nearly penniless.

“I’m counting on you Inigo,” he said, a bit more apprehensively, “If this works out, you’re gonna be first on my team to go overseas,”

Inigo felt a small, smoldering, bright flame of passion ignited in him. As distant a prospect as it sounded, it still sounded incredibly appealing.

“I won’t let you down sir,”

* * *

Owain, who only heard maybe half of the conversation between his friend and his friend’s boss, observed Inigo in rare form: exuberantly happy. He was known for being cheerful, but this was something else. It made even his bombastic attitude feel withdrawn by comparison.

Once Inigo got him up to speed, they stopped at a local cafe, both getting coffee since they both needed it desperately, despite the fact that the morning had been full of good news. Owain had a mild hangover, and Inigo needed it just to keep going, thankfully his schedule was a bit clearer now that rehearsal had been put off, so he could prepare for his date later at his leisure. 

“So, just for the record, you don’t have a problem with me using your eh… ‘lineage’ as a way to get you a part?” Inigo asked him.

Inigo also got to see Owain in rare form, that being he was too tired for his usual schtick and just stuck to being himself as he sipped from the mug. Thankfully it was a warm, sunny day outside so it was rather invigorating for both of them, but not enough to get Owain into his usual mode.

“It’s not exactly ideal but I’m certainly not going to complain,” he said with a smile, “You pulled off the impossible. I thought for sure I’d have to start as an understudy… or a background character… I don’t think I’m suited to playing the singing trees and what have you,”

Inigo chuckled, remembering that he did indeed have to play a singing tree at one point. He was allergic to the makeup they used and it did not go over all that well.

“Think we’ll have a hard time convincing Chrom?” Inigo asked, a bit more serious.

Owain shrugged.

“I don’t see why we would. You said it yourself, he’s not opposed to trying to sweeten the deal by treating these guys to a night on the town. I wonder what exactly it is they’re coming here for,” he wondered aloud.

That truly was the mystifying part. Vallethea was not exactly a nation that was very close in proximity to Ylisse, so he didn’t know all that much about them beyond a vague reputation. Their political matters in the last few years had been of little concern to them, they had far too much of their own drama going on. He did know that the current King was close with Chrom’s father, which was slightly troubling.

“Well we’ll talk to him about it later tonight,” Inigo said, “We’ll practice for a few hours, I’ve got somewhere to be at around 6ish, and once I’m back we can talk to your dear old uncle… does he even know about all this?”

Owain shook his head.

“Unlikely,” he said, “Usually we get word of oncoming overseas ships right before they get here, usually by carrier pigeon, so he’s likely the last to know, unfortunately. Been a lot of talk about an unusually high volume of trade ships coming in and out of ports so I imagine they’ve been rather busy and haven’t gotten to him yet… and not to change the subject but uh... your little ‘appointment’ at 6 tonight, that wouldn’t happen to be with Morgan, would it?”

Inigo sighed.

“Yes it would indeed,” he said, “You going to tease me about it too?”

Owain blinked.

“Tease? Is there something to tease over?” he asked, “I was going to wish you both good luck. How rude of my friend to so casually imply I take a villainous route,” 

He eyed Inigo, sipping his coffee with a narrowed gaze, which made Inigo laugh.

“Okay okay, my bad,” he insisted, “Thank you. Just a bit used to the girls being hard on me,”

“You don’t  _ not  _ deserve it,” Owain casually remarked.

“Yeah,” he said, “But still… I just want it to go well, you know? Morgan is… quite special. I think she’s great,”

He said so almost dreamily.

“You really do like her then,” Owain said, “I think if you put your best foot forward, she’d be quite the lucky maiden,”

Inigo finished up his mug of coffee, wiping off his face with his sleeve.

“Very much so. She’s intelligent and hardworking. I’d have spoken to her more if I worked up the nerve, but I always liked sneaking away with her and Lissa to play pranks on the rest of you. Good times,” he mused.

Owain snickered.

“I remember when you three dipped Jerome’s mask in ink,” he said, “That was quite the rousing spectacle. Looked like a nocturnal ferret,”

Inigo laughed at the strange simile.

“Okay, enough coffee and reminiscing. We have a script to rehearse and I have a date to prepare for,” he said rather triumphantly.

* * *

Tharja and Maribelle, on the surface, would have been the last two people anyone would have guessed to be fast friends. Then again, the Shepherds were far from what they appeared to be, and putting any two of them together was like a volatile chemical reaction, so expecting the unexpected was a good mentality to have.

All that said, they hadn’t come together through their own volition. Once Chrom made Tharja the official Plegian Ambassador to manage relations between their nations, she and Maribelle had to become affiliated for work rather quickly. Maribelle was in charge of general foreign affairs, so Tharja learned the ropes from her. 

At first, both women expected to dislike each other. Tharja figured Maribelle was a snobby obnoxious prude and Maribelle was slightly intimidated by Tharja’s quiet and occasionally intimidating disposition. After they got on the same playing field working for Chrom, they found they quite enjoyed each other’s company. Maribelle’s facade of being a snooty noble was just that, a facade, and Tharja was learning to come into her own and be more outspoken. 

That day they both got an emergency messenger from the harbor, alerting them to the oncoming Vallethean royals aboard one of their largest vessels. Word hadn’t even gotten to Chrom yet, but they were notified first mainly to draw up all the current trade agreements and legal documents so they could get up to speed with whatever this supposed ‘deal’ or ‘treaty; was going to be. Tharja arrived at Maribelle’s house, offering to help her sort through everything, seeing as it was inevitable that they’d have to compare whatever deal they had with Plegia as some sort of legal precedent. Maribelle was hardly one to refuse help, welcoming her friend inside as she had parchment scattered all over her kitchen table, a lone ink well in front of her seat just in case she needed it. Tharja took a seat and began helping as Maribelle finished up making tea, happily sharing it with the mage.

“Overseas deals,” Tharja muttered after she sipped some of the tea from her cup, “Fuckin’ pain in the ass. Don’t know they’re coming until they’re here and we have no clue what they’re gonna want. Thank God we don’t have to figure out the taxes,”

Maribelle returned to her seat, sorting through her large stack of papers as she let her tea cool off, rubbing her temples.

“Quite true, but everyone down at the treasury does,” she lamented.

Poor Ricken and Maribelle were going to be up to their ears once this was over and done with.

“Well, there’s always the faint chance that this ends up giving us a new significant revenue stream. If they don’t totally screw us, that is. We could get all post-war reparations done three months sooner if we play our cards right,” Tharja pointed out.

Maribelle nodded.

“Very much so, and frankly I think that’s likely,” she said, “Chrom is a sensible man but he’s not going to take a hit lying down. People think of Chrom and Emmeryn as rulers of great understanding, forgetting that they both had iron will and halted a great deal of conflict,”

Tharja had never truly considered that. She had sympathy for both leaders, despite what their father had done to her home country, but they did indeed possess far more than just empathy. 

“That’s ol’ blue for ya,” Tharja remarked, “If only he could find a way to make it less of a pain on our end,”

Maribelle chuckled.

“Indeed,” she said, finally taking a sip, “How’s the family?”

Tharja and Maribelle shared a lot of things, more than either woman expected to share with anyone, but Tharja never knew how to properly answer such a simple question. As far back as she could remember, her family was just never in a state that could yield a simple answer. Thank goodness her new family in Ylisse was at least far better and more close-knit than her one back home. 

Tharja did something she almost never did, she gave a genuinely saddened sigh.

“Not as well as I’d like, unfortunately,” Tharja admitted.

Maribelle looked up at the woman. This was a bit of a surprise to her. Not that Tharja was as cold as she seemed back in her earlier days, but seeing her care about others so openly was strange. She was better about it now, but was still a very reserved person.

“Something troubling you?” Maribelle asked.

Tharja contemplated whether or not it was a good idea to open up to anyone about personal matters of this specific nature, as she may have been overstepping her bounds when it came to Noire’s privacy. But even still, if she didn’t ask for advice from outside sources, what was she to do?

“It’s Noire,” Tharja said, still sorting through papers but not abandoning her solemn tone, “She and I still haven’t really… connected. I figured it would go away by now but it hasn’t,”

Maribelle bit her bottom lip before responding. 

“Connected? I didn’t figure you were close but I thought things were okay between the three of you,” she posed.

Tharja shrugged.

“She doesn’t hate me… at least I think she doesn’t. Everything’s alright with her father, but there’s a… distance between us,” Tharja said.

“Any idea on what the source of this distance is?” Maribelle asked.

Tharja really regretted bringing this up now. This was the hard part. The  _ worst _ part. The part that made her look at all the things about herself she hated, and all the thing that could’ve made her into something she hated.

“Her… mother in her original timeline. She abused her. Experimented on her. Who knows what else she hasn’t told me…” Tharja said, trailing off as she was really more just wondering that aloud. 

She couldn’t even say her own name to refer to her ‘other’ self. She had to externalize it. Deflect it.

Maribelle was taken aback. Tharja was a bit cold but it was difficult to imagine any version of her as being malicious or outright cruel. That couldn’t have been easy for anyone, least of all Noire.

“Has she confronted you about it?” Maribelle asked.

“No, but even if she wanted to, she couldn’t. She’s too shy… guess that’s my fault too,” she gloomily mused.

“Absolutely not Tharja,” Maribelle said sternly, earning the other woman’s attention, “You are not responsible for the actions of your counterpart. That was a different world,”

“But it was still  _ me  _ wasn’t it?” Tharja said, sounding less aggressive and more desperate, “A version of myself. You heard Robin and Miriel last night, there are a hell of a lot of similarities timeline-wise,”

“I did listen to them,” Maribelle said a bit more gently, “And their exact point was that the children in this world and the children in the other world we're going to be different because of their circumstances. When you have your own child you’ll be able to raise them as the person you are now. I don’t want to demean your daughter’s struggle, it sounds dreadful, but this is not your fault,”

Tharja knew on some level, hell,  _ most  _ levels, that Maribelle was right. The tragedy was it didn’t really help her situation all that much. Noire was still distant from her, she feared her, and as loathed as she was to admit it, she wanted a relationship with her.

“But if things were so similar in their world… how far away am I from the other Tharja?” she asked, her breath becoming shaky, “Am I walking on the razor’s edge? If something unfortunate befalls us, would I become her? It’s… it frightens me. I find it frustrating,” she said exhaustively.

Tharja had clearly been thinking a lot about this. 

“I don’t mean to press, dear, truly,” Maribelle continued, “But I think maybe you should have a little talk with her. Reach out to her. I know it may be hard for you, but the best thing you can do to assure both her and yourself is to prove it. Prove you aren’t the woman who raised her,”

Tharja took a moment, and then slowly nodded. She was right. It would probably be best to let her husband be the middleman just to feel things out, but once he gave her the ‘all clear’- she was going to do her best. 

“Thank you, Maribelle,” Tharja said with the faint hint of a smile around the corners of her mouth, “You know how my head just gets so damned cluttered. I-”

A knock interrupted her, both women turning to the doorway instantly, as they were so absorbed in conversation it was a bit shocking.

“Door’s open!” Maribelle called, leaning forward to try and make out who the silhouette standing on the porch was.

The door opened, and to both women’s surprise, it was Gaius. Not that they had expected anyone else, but Gaius wasn’t exactly the type for impromptu visits. 

“Yo,” he greeted them as he walked into the entranceway, “Sorry to bother you ladies but I went over to Tharja’s and Libra said you came here,”

“You needed to see me?” Tharja asked curiously.

Gaius walked into the room, standing there awkwardly like he had some kind of request to make. Tharja and Gaius were friends, as they were both resident ‘outsiders’ in the ranks of the army and got well acquainted with each other before everyone else, so it was strange that he’d appear nervous.

“Uh, yeah, briefly. More just to ask you something… but I don’t wanna interrupt you ladies while you do… this,” he said vaguely gesturing at the table.

“Pull up a chair, Gaius, I won’t have anyone standing uncomfortably in my home,” Maribelle said, “Tea?”

“Yes ma’am, if it’s no trouble. And truly, I don’t wanna be interruptin’ you ladies if something is going on so I can make this quick,” he said.

Maribelle gave a small smile and a nod, standing up to fetch him a cup.

“You aren’t, honestly both of us are going to be here a good while so I don’t think a brief visit is going to set us back a lot,” Maribelle said as she poured tea from the kettle.

Gaius sat down, adjusting himself in his seat like he was at some kind of diplomatic meeting. Tharja figured it was because of Maribelle, who despite being perfectly amicable around him, was someone Gaius would likely never be able to be himself comfortably around due to their past. She was friends with both, and neither had a problem with the other, but Gaius’s guilt seemed to overcome that even though Maribelle’s forgiveness seemingly triumphed over her initial feelings towards the former thief. 

Maribelle handed him a cup and he readily thanked her as she sat back down. He turned in his seat to face Tharja and instantly looked more comfortable.

“So, I have a bit of a favor to ask. I don’t really know what it entails precisely but I’m willing to pay you if it’s that much trouble,” he said.

“Shoot,” Tharja responded plainly.

“Well,” he said, fidgeting in his seat before he took a drink of tea, “It’s Cynthia. She’s having nightmares. I’m not talking a bad dream here and there that riles her up, I mean last night she had a night terror where she was barely breathing and scratched up her own arms so much that we had to bandage them. Fingernails dug through her skin so much that she had footlong tears in her skin,”

Maribelle’s eyes widened in shock, Tharja’s did the same, her mouth had partially hung open too. That was beyond alarming, that was severe.

“Night terrors,” Tharja said, “She’s having night terrors. Does she have a history of them?”

Gaius shrugged.

“I was too busy trying to calm her down last night to ask if this was the first time, but considering our circumstance I think it’s fair to guess that it isn’t the first time,” Gaius said.

He let that linger for a moment, both women knowing exactly what this is about.

“I was hoping you could maybe cook up some of that stuff you made me way back when I had my own nightmare issues. Hers are definitely worse and I don’t know if that entails changing up your formula or whatever, but I figured it was worth a shot. I’m… worried. And I wanna help in any way I can,” he said with more conviction than either of them had ever heard him speak with.

Tharja nodded.

“Of course,” Tharja assured him, “It’s actually pretty easy. I think I have the herbs and tonics I need at my lab back home. I’ll be helping Maribelle here for a while, but I can make it when I go back home for dinner. I’ll run it by your place with the dosing instructions on my way back over here,”

Gaius looked relieved.

“Thank Naga,” he sighed, “You’re a saint,”

Tharja grinned.

“Hardly, but hopefully it’ll help,” she said, “Though, I don’t mean to pry, but I think this runs deeper than just night terrors and guilt,” 

Gaius’s look of worry instantly came back.

“Any idea on what the deal is, then?” he asked.

“It’s not uncommon for a traumatic event to be the root of night terrors. Hell, it’s not uncommon for people to cause themselves bodily harm while they occur, usually due to falling or disorientation. But to directly hurt yourself like that? I think that… and keep in mind I’m no apothecary- but I think that Cynthia is suffering from a severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder,” she said.

Those words carried a significant amount of weight. A brief but heavy silence ensued.

“She should certainly be taken to a doctor,” Maribelle said gently, “Get one of those post-war trauma counselors for her. I hate that she’s still suffering after all this time…”

Gaius nodded.

“Yeah, that was what I planned on doing. Booked an appointment next week, but the sooner I get her a good night’s sleep, the better. Told Sumia about last night earlier this morning and she’s been absolutely distraught since she found out,” Gaius said.

“You’re a good man, Gaius,” Maribelle reassured him, “I’m sorry you’re all still going through this. If there’s anything I- well, we- can do to help, just say so,”

Gaius nodded, his expression becoming a bit more disarmed. 

“T-Thank you,” Gaius said, drinking the last remaining bit of tea in a large gulp, “And not to dismiss the pleasure of your company, ladies, but I should really get back to Sumia. She’ll rest a bit easier knowing we’ve got you helping us,"

Tharja smiled.

“It’s no trouble,” Tharja said, “I’ll be sure to get it to you in time for her to take some tonight. Say hello to Sumia for us,”

Gaius nodded, and Maribelle agreed.

“Please do. Take care, Gaius,”

“Will do. Thanks for the tea, ladies. Good luck with.. Whatever this mess is,” he said, looking back at the hundreds of papers stacked next to them before he made his way out.

The two women made eye contact, both of them recalling the unfortunate root cause of poor Cynthia’s woes. Panne was not an exceptionally social woman, but she had acquainted herself with everyone, both of them of course included.

“Gaius had nightmare problems?” Maribelle asked Tharja.

Tharja raised her eyebrows a bit.

“Oh certainly,” she said, “They were mostly about you,”

Maribelle nearly scowled.

“Pardon?”

“Oh come on, Gaius has nightmares, what’s the first thing you think of when you imagine why that might be the case?” Tharja asked, not entirely sure what Maribelle expected.

The blonde sighed.

“I didn’t know he needed a medicinal aid to help him sleep… Gods I shouldn’t have been so cruel to him when we met,” she said.

Tharja squinted slightly.

“I don’t know about that,” Tharja said, “As much as we like to be all sunshine, rainbows, and feelings these days, I feel like you had pretty good cause to feel the way you did,”

“Are you saying I shouldn’t have forgiven him?” she asked, slightly bewildered.

“Not at all,” Tharja responded plainly, “I think you behaved how any sane person would behave. Just brushing things to the side like that isn’t healthy. People  _ do  _ need to be held accountable and take some responsibility. Luckily that happened. Simple,"

Maribelle gave a slight, knowing grin.

“I can’t disagree there, though I must admit it sounds like you might be projecting a  _ wee  _ bit there Tharja dear,” she said.

She looked back with one eyebrow raised, mostly amused.

“I’ll give you something to project, missy,” she said in her lower tone of voice.

Maribelle laughed.

“Oh goodness,” she said with a sigh, “Even in times like this we’re all still a grand mess, aren’t we?” 

Tharja snorted.

“I think that’s always going to be the case,” she said, “We’re a messy bunch of people, after all,”

* * *

Severa, Kjelle, and Gerome found the day to be far too nice to waste, deciding to go out to the recently zoned Ylisstol Nature Park outside the city. It was large, vast, full of wildlife, but was also just a good place to walk around if you were the type who enjoyed mid-afternoon strolls. Chrom noted that Ylisse was getting far too focused on industry and sectioned off land in order to maintain a sort of preserve, at the center of which was the only structure they built: A memorial statue of Emmeryn.

“She was so beautiful,” Severa said as the three approached the statue, finally get a look at it for the first time.

“Wish I got to meet her,” Kjelle said, letting out a wistful sigh as she looked at the visage of her departed aunt.

“Didn’t Lucina get to meet Emmeryn? Back when she was doing that whole mask thing?” Gerome asked.

“Briefly, but she mostly just saw her from afar,” Kjelle said, “Interesting that you phrase it like that though,”

Gerome wrinkled his brow.

“Phrase it like what?” he asked.

“I believe you said ‘that whole mask thing’- you’d know all about that, huh?” Kjelle teased.

Gerome rolled his eyes.

“Yes I suppose I would, and people such as yourself make me wish I hadn’t taken that damn thing off,” Gerome muttered.

Severa nudged Kjelle in the shoulder, giving her a look that could only mean ‘be nice’. Kjelle’s posture reluctantly sank a bit. It was genuinely bizarre how their dynamic had shifted over the course of their relationship.

“I didn’t mean anything by it, pal,” she said putting an arm over his shoulder, turning them both around, “I’m just giving you shit cause you’re too handsome without the mask, not fair that you’ll be snatching away all the pretty girls from Severa and I’s general vicinity,”

“Laying it on a bit thick there, honey,” Severa said, mostly just happy Kjelle wasn’t being stubborn.

“Not if she calls me handsome she’s not,” Jerome said with the faintest hint of a grin.

Severa let out a good-natured chuckle.

“Is that confidence I spy on your face, Gerome? Making jokes? Look at you go,” she encouraged.

Gerome knew it was mostly just light-hearted banter, but he knew the girls at least partially meant when they said. He had been such a grumpy recluse, and no one, himself included, enjoyed that in the slightest.

“Ah it’s mostly just around you all,” he said, shrugging it off, “Still can’t really talk to people I don’t know well. At this rate I’ll be able to normally talk to someone I’ve never met sometime within the next five years,”

Severa playfully shoved his shoulder.

“We’ll get you there eventually. Learn to play that guitar of yours well enough and every eligible bachelor and bachelorette for miles is gonna try and bone you,” she said slyly.

Gerome laughed.

“Wow at this rate you all might give me an ego… but I won’t be complaining, provided they ask nicely,” he said.

Kjelle was about to say something as they made their way over to the cobblestone path, but she stopped, looking forwards curiously.

“Speaking of talking to people, think one of us should do something about that?” Kjelle said, lowering her voice and pointing towards an innocuous-looking tree. 

It took a moment for Severa and Gerome to notice what she was talking about, mainly because the person she was pointing out was half-hidden behind a large oak tree, back pressed against the base and facing away from them. It was faint, but when they studied the sight closely, they made out strands of long, butterscotch-colored hair in the form of half a visible pigtail.

Cynthia.

“Is she alright?” Severa asked, trying to get a look at her face without being seen, which proved to be impossible. 

“I’d be willing to wager not,” Kjelle said, “Lucina mentioned that she looked a little down last night. She hardly spoke a word,”

They all knew why, of course, which immediately made them feel helpless.

“Should we try and talk to her?” Kjelle followed up, “I don’t really know if it would make things better or worse. I hate seeing her like this. She was one of the few sources of levity back in the old days,”

It was true. As much as they depended on Lucina’s steadfast leadership, they appreciated Cynthia’s enthusiasm just as much. She was always willing to lend a hand, her and Owain frequently being two of the only people willing to smile every once in a while aside from Inigo of course. Seeing how this was breaking her down was… disparaging, to say the least.

“Well, Severa,” Gerome proposed, “You’re the resident people person. What do we do?”

She scoffed.

“Oh yeah, that’s me, alright. ‘Severa: known fan of people’- I have no idea… who knows her the best?” she queried. 

They all traded glances with another, all simultaneously coming to the conclusion that there was no obvious answer. The three of them were close mostly by merit of the fact that they had all been considered ‘loners’ when they had first come to this timeline, which Cynthia ostensibly wasn’t. She also tended to hang out with the cavaliers and riders more than the infantry, so no one came out ahead.

“Well we certainly can’t just leave her there… poor thing,” Kjelle said brimming with sympathy for the quiet girl.

Gerome let out a confident exhale.

“I’ll do it,” he said steadfastly.

Both girls looked at him, surprised.

“You know I was about to step up just because I seem to be in the business of pep talks as of late but you go for it dragon boy,” she said giving him a pat on the back.

Gerome stepped forward, adjusting his posture so that he could appear sturdier, as he imagined dragging himself over there lazily wouldn’t be the best if he wanted to appear as a source of comfort like he expected he might have to.

Once he got close, he was at least relieved to see that she wasn’t crying or talking to herself, two scenarios that would’ve left him clueless as to how he would approach the situation, but it begged the question: what was she doing there.

He was about to open his mouth and stumble over a greeting, but it was done for him.

“Ya know, if you’re trying to be sneaky, it’s usually a good idea to be quiet so your prey doesn’t spring your trap, bucko,” Cynthia said, still staring in front of her somewhat listlessly, freezing Gerome in place.

How was it that they all had such supernatural hearing?

“Ah… yes… well...” he said, fumbling even more than he thought he would.

Cynthia let out an empty chuckle.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound snippy,” Cynthia said, a hopelessly translucent sad smile superimposed onto her face that was now in full view since Gerome kneeled beside her.

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” he choked out, “But… I still want to ask, are you all right?”

It was strange, he was having trouble with this, but his sincerity managed to bleed through in every syllable. Cynthia was, if nothing else, grateful for that.

Gerome noticed Cynthia was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, on a day where it was in the mid-70s temperature-wise. He didn’t stare too intently to avoid being detected by her, but he also thought he was the edge of some bandages sticking out at the ends of both sleeves.

“Y-Yeah, I’m okay,” she said, transparently giving every indication that she felt otherwise, “Thank you for asking. And thank the girls too. You guys are way too nice to me,”

Gerome smiled.

“There’s no such thing as too nice. Especially not to friends,” he said.

Cynthia had never heard him speak so kindly before. It wasn’t as if he was mean, up until very recently he was just… distant. It made her want to say something that  _ didn’t  _ sound vague and annoyed.

“Thanks Gerome,” she said, trying her best not to tell him it was best he just leave. 

“I’ll let you be,” Gerome said, “We’re here for you if you need us, though. Please don’t forget that. I’ll be around,”

It was like he’d read her mind.

He gave the girl a nod and returned to the others, and she watched him readjust the tension in his posture. He was trying with her… a lot. But yet, he wasn’t lying or being disingenuous.

Had she been in a better mood, and had he been by himself, she may have taken him up on that offer. He rejoined the others and she heard them step away, voices fading in the distance but still tinged with concern. They cared… why couldn’t she bring herself to let them help?

She tried to do a breathing exercise Lucina once taught her for swordplay. In through the nose, out through the mouth, meant to steady your heart rate and focus your breathing. Helped with anxiety too. It was nice to take in the warm summer air, and it helped her gain a bit of footing on her own state of mind.

She had just the slightest break, the slightest bit of clarity that allowed her one uninterrupted thought:

Gods, she missed her friends.

* * *

While Severa was plying Morgan with tips for her date and doing her hair, Inigo was getting the same treatment from his mother, save for the tone in which she delivered it. In a shocking twist of fate, it was Severa who was more easygoing if a bit authoritative, and the oft soft-spoken Olivia who spoke sternly. She too was aware of her son’s reputation. 

“-and be sure to pay for dinner,” Olivia added as she brushed her son’s hair into something it more usually resembled, “But don’t argue about it and insist, it’ll make you look rude. And don’t make that poor girl uncomfortable, she’s a very sweet young lad-”

“Yes, mother, she is,” Inigo said, struggling as his mother’s brushstrokes casually began to get rougher, “Which is why I asked her out in the first place. I assure you, my intentions are honest,”

She turned him around, finally facing him head-on, giving him a solid once-over. A collared shirt, casual slacks, nothing fancy but he looked rather dapper. Olivia certainly didn’t want him to overdress.

She gave a meek smile, playfully pinching his cheek.

“That’s good to hear… though you understand where my concern comes from, right? You being a… well-”

“Philandering man-whore?” he humorously proposed.

Olivia blushed, trying to contain a chuckle.

“I certainly wouldn’t go that far but… you said it dear, not me,” she said letting a small giggle escape.

Inigo shrugged.

“What better way to discard a troubled past than to prove yourself?” he said with a smile, “Maybe if we hit it off, a few months from now, people might actually pick up on the fact that I have an actual personality,”

Olivia patted him on the shoulder as she made her way out of the bathroom. 

“And it’s a very lovely one,” Olivia said, “Just be nice, okay? I don’t to have to ward off Cordelia or Robin if you hurt that girl,”

Inigo stood, following her into the living room, where Kellam was presently engaged with a book.

“Good thing I plan on erring on the side of caution. Though if you’re afraid of anyone in that family, it should be Severa,” Inigo noted, “Can’t spell her name without ‘sever’ after all,”

Olivia paled at the slightly morbid jest, probably imagining a terrifying what-if scenario. Severa had mellowed, but she probably would’ve reverted right back to ‘attack mode’ if Morgan were to get her heart broken.

Kellam merely laughed.

“After all I do have a model of knighthood for a role model,” Inigo continued, “Isn’t that right, dad?”

Kellam looked up blankly.

“Uh, yes. Yes, sure,” he sputtered, “Sorry I missed that,”

Olivia and Inigo both chuckled.

“Sorry I missed you!” Olivia said gingerly as she walked over to her husband at sat next to him, “Didn’t even know you were here,”

Kellam snorted.

“Shocker,” he said, drawing his attention back to the book, “Good luck though, Inigo. Hope you have a lovely time,”

Inigo nodded, looking at the sky, realizing he was in danger of being light, seeing as dusk was soon approaching. He perked up, waving at his parents as he took off to grab a horse.

“Bye mom! Bye dad!” he called out just before he ran out the front door.

Olivia gave a content sigh.

“He called us mom and dad,” she said, “Not ‘mother’ or ‘father- I think that’s the first time he’s done that,”

Kellam shifted his attention to his wife, who looked almost… sad?

“You alright?” Kellam asked, leaning in.

Olivia nodded.

“Yes,” she said, “Very okay. I’m just… proud of him. And happy that I got to act like a real mom and give him a rough time for his first date, like he’s some teenager. I bet the other Olivia didn’t get the chance,”

Kellam grabbed her hand gently.

“He probably appreciates it too,” he said warmly, “Though, I can’t exactly say I’d buy that this is ‘first’ date, probably just the first one he told us about,”

Olivia laughed.

“Definitely not,” Olivia said, “And frankly, I’m okay with not knowing,”

“Can’t blame you,” Kellam said, putting his arm around the pink-haired dancer, “Our son  _ is  _ a bit of a man-whore, after all,”

They both erupted into laughter. 

* * *

Once Inigo arrived at Cordelia and Robin’s humble abode, Morgan and Severa were on the porch to greet him. Severa looked at him like she did back before the war, like their conversation yesterday never happened. Figured she revert to it to go all ‘big sister’ on him.

Morgan almost always wore her tactician’s garb, just like her father, so seeing her wearing something else was enough to surprise him, but that wasn’t what mainly caught his eye. She wore a skirt and a rather modest blouse that he could’ve sworn was Severa’s. She was also wearing earrings- small, tasteful ones, and her hair was a bit less messy than it was normally. It wasn’t like she was dressed for a ball or anything, but it was a look that captivated him still. 

“Back home by 10:00, Inigo, or I’ll track you down and kill you if Morgan doesn’t first,” she said with a fake polite smile and a musical tone in her voice.

Morgan’s eyes widened as she turned to Severa.

“Severa!” she exclaimed, “I’m perfectly capable of beating up Inigo myself, no need to start this off by making him uncomfortable!”

“People sure are keen on talking about me like I’m not here,” Inigo chuckled.

Morgan stepped down from the porch, walking over to Inigo, and took his hand so she could easily get on horseback. She clung to him tightly once they were both on the saddle properly.

“Sorry, horses make me nervous,” Morgan said through an awkward smile showing her slightly clenched teeth.

Inigo suppressed the urge to say ‘you grabbing my waist makes  _ me  _ nervous’- figuring silence was the better option.

“Have fun kids,” Severa said with a wave.

“We will,” Inigo said, “And not too much fun, I know, I know. Not looking for a reason to get scalped by you, Sev,”

Severa genuinely laughed.

“Oh, Inigo, we both know that’s far kinder than what I’d do to you,” she said, still in her patented ‘happy but horrifying’ tone of voice.

Inigo gave her a mock salute as they rode into town, Morgan’s grip on the dancer tightening, fearing she may fall off. Severa watched the two ride away, hoping that the evening went well for them.

“Sev, sweetie, you want a glass of wine?” Cordelia called from out back.

Severa basically bolted back inside to get to the back porch quicker. Gods, did she ever want some. It was odd, drinking with her parents recreationally, but it was pleasant still. It reminded her that in some way, they were still peers, friends, even. It wasn’t something she saw herself being able to do several months ago, but she had very little to complain about. 

_ Nothing to complain about _ , she thought.

Her, of all people, unable to make any misgivings. Maybe the naive happiness she was so dead-set against believing in so long ago was a real thing after all. Drinking with her parents, waiting for her sister to come home from a date. It was like she was living the life she had missed out on for so long.

* * *

The restaurant Morgan ended up picking was one with outdoor seating, which was the main reason she picked it in the first place. It was a lovely day that carried into a lovely evening, and the outdoor, overhanging pergola with cafe candles made it look absolutely gorgeous. Inigo had never been there, but it was a restaurant right on the Ylisstol harbor, so he assumed it was seafood. She certainly had an eye for an idyllic location. 

Once they got their seats and looked at the menu, Morgan realized just how out of her depth she was. She knew Inigo was better at conversation than her, so she prayed he had something up his sleeve. 

“Seafood joint,” he commented upon looking at the menu, “You a fan?”

“Uh, honestly? Not really,” Morgan said with a blush, “They have… oh wow they have a lot, so it’s no biggie,”

Inigo laughed.

“Well I’m not either, so I guess it’s both unfortunate  _ and  _ fortuitous that you picked this place,” he said.

“Ah it’s mostly for the weather. The air feels great,” she said hesitantly, “Oh Gods… I’m talking about the weather. I’m really bad at this,”

She hung her head as Inigo chuckled, admiring how cute Morgan was when she was sheepish.

“Ah you’re fine,” he reassured her, “It’s not as though we’re an old married couple trying to pass the time because we hate one another,”

“It was on Severa’s list of ‘topics to avoid’ so I tried my best… and it was the first thing I mentioned,” Morgan sighed.

The waiter came over to take their drink orders. Inigo went for some odd drink Morgan had never heard of, Morgan just stuck to her guns and got a glass of wine. 

“Even better at ordering drinks than I am, really can’t gain my footing tonight,” she said nervously.

“Hardly,” he said, “Had this one recommended to me months ago by a bartender. Tastes like strawberries, teensy splash of vodka. It’s fantastic… and speaking of fantastic,”

He exaggeratedly eyed Morgan with a knowing nod. She blushed instantly, her nerves igniting like she had been stuck with a knife.

“You look… incredible,” he said with just enough genuine awe.

“Y-You do too!” she hurriedly responded, “I-It’s just because I washed my hair. I mean, not that I don’t normally. I just… bothered to make it look nice,”

She wasn’t lying. He found her normally wavy hair quite fitting, but it straighter, done up in the back in a small bun.

“You usually look nice, but I fear I’m laying the flattery on a bit thick,” Inigo said.

The waitress brought their drinks back, and took their orders, which thankfully were easy to select seeing as their options were slightly limited. 

“It’s alright,” Morgan continued, taking a sip of her drink, “You did say you were going to compliment me, hope that’s not all though… actually that sounds pretty boring, now that I think about it,"

Inigo figured as much, and while he could indeed make the entire evening nothing but flattery, he knew her sharp mind wouldn’t exactly be entertained with cheap words. One of the reasons he liked her. 

He could still tell she was nervous, he needed to do something about that.

“Certainly,” Inigo said, “Though, I gotta admit, if there’s anyone who should be nervous here, it’s me,”

Morgan was definitely surprised.

“How come? Did I do something?” She asked, nearly gasping.

“No, no! You’re fine, I promise,” he said, “I just mean, I  _ am  _ sitting in front of one Ylisse’s finest tactical minds. Not to talk myself down or anything, but I think it’s a safe bet to say that if we had gotten the chance to go school, we wouldn’t have been in the same classes,”

Something inside Morgan felt like it was glowing. She didn’t necessarily like it, but there was a part of her that yearned for approval and recognition. A desire to both live up to her father and carve out her own path, which was difficult seeing as her field of expertise was, to say, quite limited. She was expanding her horizons, but progress didn’t get made quickly. During peacetime, her skills weren’t going to get her far. When Inigo said that, she felt her heart skip a beat. It was a little selfish, but everyone was allowed to be a little selfish now and then, right?

“Well I’m glad someone is around to appreciate me,” she said playfully, indulging in a bit of disingenuous confidence, “Doing research and potion work all day is… rather thankless, I must admit,”

“Well then madame I would like to cordially thank you for your service,” Inigo said with a smile and mock applause.

Morgan placed her hand on her chest, feigning surprise.

“I’m honored, good sir! I’m just doing my sworn civic duty!” she theatrically mused. 

They both laughed, the nervousness that both of them had that lingered stubbornly beginning to melt away. The fear that the evening might have been a bust for the two of them was all but gone, and the two had a better time than either of them could’ve hoped for.

* * *

“Robin please slow down and tell me what’s wrong,” Cordelia said, voice full of worry as her husband grabbed his coat.

He blinked, bringing his mind back on track from its singular purpose of ‘get ready to leave and meet Chrom’

A messenger had arrived late into the evening, a messenger who called for Robin, an emergency meeting with Chrom had been requested, priority level one. Essentially, this meant something very very important or very very bad was about to happen. Hopefully not the latter, and hopefully not both. 

Robin had gotten ready so fast he nearly forgot Cordelia and Severa had been left behind, wondering who was at their door and why it was keeping him so long.

“Chrom,” he said hurriedly, “Emergency meeting. Priority level one. I have to go,”

Cordelia’s face went from worry to shock.

“If he needs you… does that mean-”

“I don’t know what it means, exactly,” he said, looking his wife in the eye, “It means he needs me and I need to be quick,”

He nearly bolted out the door then and there, but Cordelia stopped him, grabbing the edge of his coat, halting him. Her concern was etched all over her face. If Robin could’ve torn his face away from her, he would’ve seen Severa watching them a few feet away, making an identical expression.

She hated when he got like this. When his focus prevented him from seeing the bigger picture. She knew he was scared too, but it didn’t matter.

“Robin… if it’s an emergency…”

She couldn’t complete the sentence. They were both thinking it, but she just couldn’t. Not now. Not again. It couldn’t be, surely. This had to be something else, right? 

But what else was a priority one threat meant to signal other than an immediate, pressing danger?

“Listen,” Robin said, putting his hands on both of her shoulders, “Whatever this is, I have to go, I can’t waste time. But if this-”

“How?” Cordelia asked, unable to maintain composure, her voice breaking, “It’s not Plegia, is it? It couldn’t be, right?”

A million thoughts were racing through his head. It was very unlikely that it was Plegia, but it wasn’t impossible. But so suddenly? Surely Tharja would’ve been able to give them notice? Unless… it was a surprise attack.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry. But if this-”

“Another war?” she asked, not fearing about jumping to conclusions as fear of the possibility of something disrupting the peace proved too strong.

Robin looked at her, Cordelia’s eyes almost watering, hands shaking with worry. She had lost so much in the Plegian conflict. Her friends- no. Her sisters, her family, all wiped out. Now she had another family. A family she wanted to keep safe at all cost.

He looked at her with conviction.

“Not if I can help it,” he assured her, lunging in to tightly embrace her tightly, leaning into her ear to whisper:

“I love you,”

Robin took off out the door, immediately stepping down to meet the messenger, who had taken a horse from their stable per Robin’s request, ready to meet him in front of the porch.

Severa and Cordelia briskly followed out onto the porch as the tactician lept onto the horse, following the messenger, taking off at full speed as they headed towards the road to Ylisstol.

* * *

The two girls just stood on the porch, suffering from the most severe mood whiplash they ever endured. They were fine mere minutes ago, talking and drinking as the minutes passed by. Not a care in the world save for Morgan coming on time.

And then a messenger showed up, perhaps the most unceremonious of ways to signal a potential earth-shattering disaster.

Robin arrived and rushed into the castle, running into the room in the back of Chrom’s armory, one he’d built for the sole purpose of having private meetings of a sensitive nature with anyone he consulted or discussed political affairs with. A room that signaled you were in the inner circle of the Exalt’s trust… a room Robin really didn’t want to enter ever again.

He bolted into the door after running down the many halls that led him there, breathing heavily and sweating, both from nerves and from completely hauling ass. He opened the inconspicuous door to find the room exactly as they left it a year ago- wooden chairs around an enormous round wooden table with maps and documents spread everywhere. A total nightmare to sort through that no one had bothered cleaning up. 

Wishful thinking was rather cruel, sometimes. 

Chrom and Sully both stood on the balcony, the room opened up to oversee the Northern half of Ylisstol, giving them a good view. It was getting dark, but the night hadn’t fully come yet, so the Exalt and his wife stood, backs to him, hands gripping the balcony’s railing. They stood as silhouettes against a burnt orange sky, both turning when they heard Robin enter.

He sauntered over to them, still out of breath. He hadn’t been as physically active in the past year as he should’ve, and it was really taking its toll now.

“Chrom… I… I’m here,” he said, joining them.

He wanted to ask his friend if he was okay, maybe offer him some water, but it wasn’t the time for that.

Chrom looked worried. Sully looked pissed.

“Sorry to call you so urgently, friend,” Chrom said shakily, “I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t absolutely imperative,”

Robin nodded, finally standing up, leaning against the railing like they had been when he found them. His breathing steadied. Chrom approached it again, looking out toward the harbor.

“No apologies,” Robin insisted, “Talk first. Apologies later,”

“Right,” he said, “Well, two hours ago I was informed a Vallethean vessel was on its way here. Not exactly thrilled it happened on short notice but these things can’t be helped. It would seem they’ve arrived,”

“That’s… not exactly what I would call ‘bad’ news,” Robin stated, clearly confused.

“They wanted to negotiate some trade details. Shit like that,” Sully said, “Or so they claimed,”

Robin looked at both expectantly, waiting for a ‘but’- this didn’t exactly sound like a priority one threat yet.

“Everyone was preparing themselves, I got word Tharja and Maribelle were procuring documents for whatever this was. Apparently, they didn’t send just anyone. Damn near the entire line of succession came with them. Two princes and a princess,” Chrom explained.

Robin furrowed his brow.

“To negotiate an overseas trade deal? Seriously?” he asked.

“I thought it was suspicious too,” Chrom said, “Especially considering it’s been years since we even heard from them. The last time being when they told us they couldn’t aid in our attempt to unify the alliance back when Walhart first showed,”

Robin was squarely out of his comfort zone here. He knew OF Vallethea, and knew Ylisse and Vallethea did indeed have a history, sohe knew a few things about it, but not nearly enough to get a handle on things. He didn’t care for being thrust into situations with too little context.

“Okay, so they’re coming, what exactly is cause for worry?” he asked impatiently.

Robin noted that Chrom still had yet to make eye contact with him. A telltale sign this was definitely going to be a large problem.

“The worry is that they’re here. Right now. Arrived a few minutes ago,” the Exalt sighed, pointing out towards the horizon straight out in front of them,”

Robin took a moment to pick up on the cue, but turned himself to look in the direction Chrom was pointing at.

Due north was the large Ylisstol Harbor, immediately adjacent to the business district of the capital. Ships of all shapes and sizes came through there, and it was a valuable asset in procuring funds and shipment. A large area to be sure, but one full of movement and life that never really stopped moving. A visible economy that they all got used to once it had expanded in the post-war rebuilding. So naturally, when something looked like it didn’t belong there, it was very obvious.

Pulling in to one of the docks was a ship so massive that it put even the largest trade vessels they had to shame. It was an enormous wooden titan of a ship that was as long as maybe four or five cargo ships. It was tall too, making the sight look intimidating as all hell, the tiny specks of people being dwarfed by its size.

Robin’s stomach churned as he realized what the vessel was. Something he’d only read about in reference books, academic texts, or history books. Something he’d never seen and thought he would never see, since Ylisse wasn’t really one for naval warfare.

“That…” Robin creaked out, “That’s a warship,”

* * *

Upon their arrival, Atalliana did not make the most graceful of introductions. As soon as the ship halted, she immediately leaned over the edge and vomited. Upon seeing land, it seemed the relief proved too tempting to not expel what had been brewing in her stomach over the last few days.

“Classy,” Asyllus said, “First impressions are off to a great start,”

“Fuck off Asyllus,” she said, gathering herself, “I’m not the first princess to have bloody sea-sickness,”

The crew lowered the platform that extended out to the docking bay, which took its sweet time considering how large it was. The three looked down over the largely empty dock, just a few workmen loading crates and a few vessel captains, all staring at the sight before them slack-jawed.

As soon as the platform lowered onto the cobblestone, a battalion of heavily-armored knights and soldiers rounded the corner, as if on cue. They filed into formation, four rows of nearly a dozen men. Hell of a way to say hello. 

“What exactly were you saying about first impressions?” Atalliana smugly posed.

Tyrius and Asyllus both just looked confused. They’d sent the notice in time for the Ylisseans to know they were arriving, so this was certainly a strange course of action. Maybe they were less prone to be peacemakers than their briefing had them believe.

“Everyone stay on board until I give the okay,” Tyrius said to the crew as the three royal children made their way down towards their friendly welcoming party.

From amidst the soldiers, two men walked forward confidently, both steeled eyes that still masked a very distinct anxiety behind them. One was a man donned in royal garbs, a scabbard on his back that held a formidable blade, and the jawline and cheekbones of a man who certainly had been the product of royal breeding. His dark blue hair matched his clothes, which Atalliana found rather humorous. The other was a man in a strange purple cloak with markings they’d never seen before, dark chestnut hair and soft features that made his gaze feel almost silly, even if it was still intimidating. This one didn’t carry a sword, but a tome. A royal attendant perhaps?

“They look cheery,” Asyllus said, looking them over.

“We did just put a warship in their dock,” Atalliana said casually, “I’d probably be a bit nonplussed myself,”

Asyllus stopped, his siblings took a moment to notice he wasn’t walking alongside them, and turned to him. 

“You…  _ did  _ tell them in the message that we were coming in one of these, right?” Asyllus asked, genuinely afraid.

Atalliana shrugged.

“You know me little brother,” she responded, “Always better to ask forgiveness than permission,”

She turned back around and confidently walked down as her brothers tried not to let the panic show on their faces. They exchanged a knowing glance, Asyllus’s face containing a trace of ‘See? I was right’ and Tyrius’s being more along the lines of ‘I hate it when you’re right’

They finally stood on dry land, casually approaching the two men whose expressions never faltered. The man in the robe even looked like he had a finger slipped into one of the pages of his tome, as if to bookmark an attack of choice in case of danger. Atalliana wore her always-confident grin, one that always retained a bit of barely detectable condescension only her brothers would notice. Asyllus and Tyrius merely copied the Ylisseans in the facial expression department. 

They were only a few feet apart now. 

“So… we just gonna stand around here like a bunch of jackasses the whole time?” Asyllus said, choosing to break the ice his own way would be far better than Atalliana’s way.

“Depends on whether or not your explanation for why you just brought an imperial warship into this country without notifying us. If I don’t like your answer, none of you will be ‘standing’ at all,” the brown-haired man threatened, his own expression turning to something more confident.

“Fiery,” Atalliana said, “I like you,”

“That’s all well and good, but if I were you, I’d start trying to get  _ me  _ to like  _ you _ ,” he fired back.

“Well, my name is Atalliana, imperial princess of the empire of Vallethea. These two chuckle fucks next to me are my brothers, Asyllus and Tyrius,” she elaborated, “I trust you got our message?”

“My name is Robin, Grandmaster Tactician for the Ylissean army,” he said, easing up, “And I take it you likely know my friend here, the Exalt Chrom. We got your message, but I think it's needless to say that you left out a few things,”

It was a cute front, but Atalliana saw through it easily. They caught them at a disadvantage, and they needed to appear stalwart. Chrom was taking the strong, silent approach while his associate did the heavy lifting. Commendable, if transparent.

“You’ll have to forgive my sister,” Asyllus rushed to answer, “Tact is not her strong suit. Our intentions are just as we said in the message. If you look topside, you’ll see we still have a fairly small crew. Our homeland is currently amidst a bit of a financial crisis, and the only imperial vessel available to us was this. Inspect it if you like, beyond our crew and a mere half-dozen soldiers for our protection, I assure you that you’ll find nothing,”

Atalliana had to bite her tongue, hating that Asyllus was stepping on her toes. He knew she couldn’t verbally retaliate since they had to appear as a unified front.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Robin said, signaling for the soldiers behind them to go forward.

“So,” Chrom finally spoke, “Trade negotiations, treaties, financial crisis, sounds like a lot of work. Sending three members of the royal family sounds like a bit of overkill when an ambassador would’ve done the trick,”

“Our father wanted to send his regards,” Tyrius said, “He’s otherwise occupied and feels terrible he couldn’t make the trip himself. Considering our family’s history, he felt it too impersonal to try and do this outside the family,”

“Your father as in, Andromedus the Fourth? My father’s war… buddy?” Chrom asked.

It was all he could do not to brand the man as a ‘war criminal’ instead. Though since history was written by the victors, they were regrettably exempt from such titles, officially speaking. 

“Good to see you’re aware,” Asyllus said, “We immensely regret our inability to aid you in the Valmese conflict, and since our trade agreements are all but dead, our father wished for us to stir the pot, so to speak. Mend a few bridges so we can be on good terms again,”

Robin chuckled, his eyes briefly moving upwards as one of the Ylissean soldiers gave them a thumbs up. Their search had yielded nothing.

“So, you’re telling me you came all across the ocean to make friends?” Robin asked.

Asyllus gave a friendly smile.

“Essentially, yes,” he answered, “We figured another source of significant trade revenue for you would aid your rebuilding, and we have plenty to offer. And on the less business-oriented side of things, times are rough, it helps to have powerful friends,”

Atalliana was trying her best not to display her rather escalating annoyance at her brother’s passive display. He extended his hand.

“Perhaps we all got off on the wrong foot,” he said as Chrom reached to hesitantly shake it, “I’m Prince Asyllus Andromedus, pleased to make your acquaintance,”

Chrom looked at Robin when the handshake ended, and Robin took the reins.

“Well then, I take it you plan on having a bit of an extended stay? Trade deals aren’t exactly brief. Forging alliances aren’t either,” Robin said, leading them.

“If you would just like to be a normal business stay it certainly can be,” Asyllus offered, “But we think it would be, say… mutually beneficial if we perhaps get to know one another more personally. What else is peacetime good for?”

Robin looked back at Chrom. Every time they did this it was like a paragraphs-long conversation took place silently. 

“Well, I think that’s something we can get behind,” Chrom said, smiling genuinely, “Your journey here was long and you all probably haven’t had a decent meal in ages, I gather?”

“Gods no,” Tyrius blurted out, “Feel like I haven’t eaten properly in weeks,”

Asyllus smiled and patted his sister on the back.

“My sister here also has horrid seasickness so I’m sure she, of all people, would not say no to a late-night meal, should we be so lucky as to be offered one,” Asyllus said.

Atalliana looked him dead in the eyes. To everyone else, it looked like an expression of endearment, to Asyllus, it was cause to be partially afraid she was about to snap him in half.

“Of course,” Atalliana said, “It has been quite a tumultuous trip,”

Chrom nodded.

“Well then, follow the two of us and we can see if we can alleviate that situation a bit, hm?” 

Everyone nodded.

Despite the mutual agreement and seemingly bad first impression that had faded away, there wasn’t a single solitary fiber of anyone’s beings that trusted those whom they’d just been acquainted with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ this is already so damn long... hope you enjoy!


	3. Under the Runes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The arrival of the Valletheans leads to some unexpected interactions and revelations. As Chrom and Robin worry that there may be a plot afoot, one of the royal siblings seeks to validate their suspicions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow. Can't believe I'm making one of these posts, but yeah, it's been a while. Going back to work during a global pandemic eats away a lot of your free time, as it turns out, and I wasn't able to crank out much while still working on continuing my ongoing original novel series, but there's hope for this story yet! It is all outlined and I do wish to continue it to its finish, in all its mammoth glory, so stay tuned! And, if you like this, hop over to my account on FictionPress, where I publish all my stuff I put on Amazon/Kindle/Paperback for free :) Hope you all enjoy!

Inigo and Morgan’s date was, against all odds, positively delightful. Neither one of them expected the other to be bad company, but they certainly figured in the very real possibility that they’d mess something up or put their foot in their mouth… but no such event took place. Instead they had fun, which was something they both sorely needed, even if they didn’t realize it.

It extended beyond just the dinner, which was surprisingly good, and extended to a walk on the beach. It was too gorgeous an evening to pass up, the sunset coupled with the scenery was just far too tempting for the both of them, so their ever-evolving conversation moved to the dunes.

Eventually, Morgan grew tired, and decided to sit right where the tide was rising up to, removing her shoes to wash the accumulated sand off her feet. Inigo did the same as the two sat and enjoyed the remainder of their evening.

They sat close to each other, Morgan’s legs pulled up to her torso allowing her to rest her chin on her knees, whereas Inigo sat parallel to her with his legs outstretched a bit further, propping himself up with his arms as he lay back. Both snuck glances at each other in the breaks of their conversation, but their gazes remained mostly fixed on the gorgeous sky that looked like it was out of some watercolor painting.

“Can I ask you a question, Inigo?” Morgan asked, a hint of real emotion slipping into her voice.

“Of course,” he answered, secretly dreading where this was headed.

“You’re cute,” she led off with, taking him by surprise, “You’re charismatic, you’re nice, you could ask out any girl you want. You’ve got all these options… why me?”

Inigo felt like he was about to choke on his own breath. Genuine compliments and such a charged question was a two-pronged weapon he was not prepared to defend himself against. 

“You know you’re far too full of self-doubt for your own good,” he said with a grin, “The question you should be asking is why  _ wouldn’t  _ I want to ask you out?”

Morgan blushed a shade of red that put her hair to shame.

“I dunno,” she said plainly, “We didn’t know each other before we came here… or, if we did, you’re not the Inigo that I knew. So, what does that mean?”

“You assume I need to have a long history of wartime companionship to like someone?” he asked with a chuckle.

She smiled.

“No… aw come on, you know what I mean! Yeah sure we’ve hung out and talked before but… what is it exactly that makes you think I’m worth your time?” she asked, her inquiry becoming more serious as it continued.

Inigo’s smile faded, but it was still present. Whatever was left of his act, he was dropping it.

“I’d like to think the last hour and a half or so has proved some of my point for me,” he said somewhat nervously, “However I think the rest of that point is proven by your question. The fact that you asked me this to begin with. That’s why,”

Morgan squinted.

“I don’t… follow?” she said somewhat incredulously.

Inigo placed his hand onto one of hers.

“Morgan you’re brilliant. You’re bright, you’re funny, you’re beautiful, you’re fun to be around… and yet you still have the unthinkable levels of humility to somehow think  _ you  _ aren’t worth  _ my  _ time? It’s like your mother’s perfection and your father’s obliviousness have both manifested in you somehow. It’s not me who should be justifying their attraction, it’s you,” he said enthusiastically. 

“M-me?” she asked, still unable to process what he just told her fully, “Well I m-mean… come on. You’re you,”

Both remained silent as they looked into each other’s eyes nervously until they both erupted into a light laughter once Inigo couldn’t hold his expectant stare any longer.

“Wasn’t under the impression I was such a catch,” he said, ending his chuckle.

Morgan playfully hit his shoulder.

“Oh come on, you do too,” she said, “Just because you’ve cleaned up your act doesn’t mean you’ve lost all that insufferable confidence. You gotta know at least a little bit about how nice you are… how cute you are… how funny you-”

She trailed off and immediately stopped herself as soon as she realized she was beginning to embarrass herself.

He leaned in.

“Perhaps you’re projecting a bit,” he whispered to the strawberry-haired girl, “Even I have my limits when it comes to narcissism,”

Somehow his voice was louder than the waves even though it was about as gentle as the breeze. Maybe to Morgan it just sounded that way. Her heart was beating faster than it had since the war, she felt almost nauseous, but there was something magnetic about his eyes that pulled her in towards him.

“Maybe… I am…” she said, dazed.

Both of them closed their eyes for the kiss.

Unlike Inigo, Morgan had never kissed anyone before. She knew what to do, in theory, but for her first venture decided to remain on the passive side. Inigo thankfully took enough charge to guide her without being forceful or uncomfortable. It was such a distinct and unique sensation, this soft, faintly electric sensation that felt warm and comforting.

They backed away from each other, blankly staring at each other as they both realized they had no idea what to do or say at the present moment. Inigo elected to smile, his cluelessness looking especially dopey on him. 

Morgan, to his chagrin, looked confused.

“Morgan?” he asked, horrified he had done something wrong.

“Holy shit, that’s a big-ass boat,” Morgan said quietly, eyes staring past Inigo.

It took Inigo a moment to process that, and he hesitantly turned around.

It was indeed, a big-ass boat. It sat prominently in the harbor to the east, only catching their eye because of its massive size, seeing as it was nearly a mile away.

“Is that a war vessel?” he asked.

Morgan nodded. Inigo took a moment to recall that the Valletheans that he’d been hearing so much about were supposed to arrive soon, could that’ve really been them? Why on earth would anyone need to travel in something that large if not for… nefarious purposes.

“I know that’s not a tradeship if that’s what you’re asking. Naga’s name… what the hell is that doing in the harbor?” she asked.

It was not exactly how either of them imagined their date to end, and it was far from the results either of them wanted from their first kiss.

“There’s always a damn boat,” Inigo muttered, “I suppose we should go make sure we aren’t being invaded now,”

Morgan and Inigo both looked downtrodden, but gave one another an uneasy smile.

“Maybe we can try this again on another night? When a warship isn’t knocking at our door?” Morgan proposed uneasily.

Inigo smiled.

“I’d like that, yeah,” he answered, “Now… let’s get over to the stable. Ylisse might be in need of it’s finest tactical mind, after all,”

He winked at her, and she felt a bit weak in the knees, briefly forgetting how frightening it was seeing a battle vessel docked in that harbor.

* * *

“They know we can see them talking, right?” Atalliana smugly mused, “Doesn’t take a genius to figure out what their little chat is about,” 

It was remarkably unsubtle, not that the three Vallethean children could blame them. Under the circumstances, they would do the same…only if, of course, their father didn’t have whoever parked the warship in that hypothetical reality executed instantly. Still, Chrom and Robin chatted away, just quiet enough not to be heard, but certainly enough to be seen. 

For once it was Tyrius who gave her a playful jab to the side. 

“Sister if you’re going to be obnoxious please keep it out of earshot. They’re being generous,” he said, not taking his eyes off the back of the Exalt and Grandmaster respectively. 

She was shocked, namely because Tyrius never did anything like that, and in all honesty likely knew better than to talk to her like that. However, her shock did not show, she still had to reign it all in, whether she liked it or not. Asyllus meanwhile was just happy for the solidarity. She’d never expect Tyrius to turn on her, not a million years, so his display was him taking advantage of that so her eyes could be briefly cast away from Asyllus. The two brothers couldn’t afford to not be on each other’s wavelength anymore. They were a team, and the more heat that was off Asyllus, the better. Tyrius was smarter than he let on, but he was also wiser, and he knew his brother needed to be able to confidently grasp how to best deal with their sister. That, however, would prove difficult if she so much as suspected Asyllus was conspiring against her. Tyrius was at an advantage, as it was totally in character for him to be charitable. 

“Of course, brother dearest,” she muttered. 

Tyrius suppressed a smirk. 

Chrom and Robin were too busy exchanging panicked ‘what if’ scenarios and simply hadn’t noticed that their guests became quite aware of that… like it mattered anyway. 

“This is definitely suspect,” Robin said harshly, “Nothing about this feels right. I look at them and I see people who tread water in half truths and bathe in lies,” 

“Not your best analogy,” Chrom said plainly. 

Robin cocked an eyebrow. 

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Robin asked, “I get that you have serious grace under pressure but I feel like I’m the only one here whose properly worried,”

Chrom let out a mournful sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I’ll elaborate later. For the time being, we play our parts. We get a feel for them, we convene after once they’re in bed,”

Robin almost hated Chrom for his ability to take things in stride. He was like a beacon of white hot manic worry, whereas Chrom, who likely bore the same worries he had and then some, was able to brush it off so easily. The image of the exalt was a difficult performance, and no one knew better than Chrom that said performance can be the end of you, and yet he persisted. This was why Robin respected him so much. He, for better or for worse, was a silent martyr. 

But this was bigger than them. At least, it could’ve been. He wasn’t fully on board the suspicion train just yet, but he also desperately wanted to believe this was exactly what they claimed it to be. He didn’t want conflict. He didn’t want war. For Naga’s sake, they weren’t even finished fixing the country from the last one. Chrom knew that… and he knew the gravity of what was at stake. He was just able to wear his mask despite all that, that stubborn bastard. 

Robin’s paranoia faded when he reminded himself of one simple fact: Chrom was a good leader. A smart one, too. But above all, an empathic one. He saw people as so much more than the sum of their parts, he heard out everyone, and these suspicious figures would be no exception. 

“Okay, just… you know…” Robin exhaustively trailed off.

Chrom placed his hand on the tactician’s shoulder. 

“I do. Say no more,” he assured him. 

* * *

The meal for the royal trio was prepared quickly, but not with such haste that it would lessen the quality of the food. Chrom had to rouse a few of the chefs and some servants he was going to have to pay some serious overtime to, trying to keep things looking as efficient as possible. Thankfully, Robin was able to send for Cordelia once they all arrived at the castle, so they could maintain some strength in numbers and keep up appearances. 

“Robin what on earth is happening?” she asked in a hushed whisper once she arrived.

“Just try and keep calm. This might just be a business deal,” he said, unable to sound fully sure of himself.

“Might?” she asked.

Robin sighed.

“I’ll tell you everything we know once this is over, it could just be a misunderstanding. Right now, we’re just having a meeting, introducing ourselves, and making nice,” he said.

“Why did you need me?” she asked, confused.

He leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“Because I didn’t want you to worry, and I know I’m at my best when you’re around,” he said with an uneasy smile, “You don’t have to stay, I just didn’t want you to panic, especially if this turns out to be nothing,”

Cordelia shook her head and sighed.

“So help me if Chrom called an emergency for little more than a business meeting I’ll-”

“Be your wonderful and upstanding self?” Robin finished.

Cordelia exhaled and put on a smile.

“Yes, naturally,” she said, “Are they nice?”

Robin shrugged.

“They haven’t kicked me or called me names yet, so they seem okay,” he said, trying to bring the slightest bit of levity.

She playfully shoved his shoulder as they made their way to the dining hall.

Among them were Tharja and Maribelle, who urgently headed over once they arrived at a good stopping point, Frederick and Say’ri, and Lucina and Noire. They had sent messengers to notify the Khans and request their presence for the following week, and were generally trying to get everyone where they needed to be. A dull, throbbing buzz seemed to permeate their heads as the chaos of the situation unfolded, which made this late evening dinner feel a lot heavier than it ought to. After Chrom sent word to allow the Valletheans’ guards and ship crew to stay at the barracks and be tended to, Robin and Cordelia joined them at the table. Thankfully, neither of them had to worry about starting conversation, as the taller brother, Asyllus, seemed to be spiritedly speaking with Chrom.

“I do want to emphasize how sorry we are for not informing you about this sooner. In Vallethea we’re a bit more accustomed to communicating long distances with magic, so we forget that it’s so easy to have something lost in translation. Sending carrier pigeons from out at sea is quite the hassle,” Asyllus elaborated.

“Communicating with magic?” Tharja inquired.

“Yes,” Asyllus said, “We have staves and tomes and the like, but our magic runs a bit deeper. A select few of us are born with the predisposition to use small amounts of it at will. Our main form of communication is using what we refer to as a ‘looking glass’ spell,”

Tharja’s eyes widened.

“At will? You're saying you can manipulate the latent energy in your body without studying?” she asked. 

Asyllus nodded.

“It certainly takes practice and mastery, but yes, actually. It’s mainly to do with the land we live on. There’s old magic woven into everything there. A tome’s worth of history involving Gods, Demons, monsters, curses, all sorts of things. As a result, a few of us are endowed with… gifts,”

Asyllus outstretched his hand so everyone could see, and a faint purple glow outlined it, specks of light emanating from it as a faint hum rang from his direction. In a matter of seconds, a small purple flame appeared over his palm, like a candle without a wick. He quickly closed his fist, returning his hand to his side. The Ylisseans looked at him, stunned.

“Remarkable,” Tharja said, curiosity flashing in her eyes, “Seeing as our countries were founded during similar times, the mere act of being born there is what gives you these abilities?” 

“Yes,” the suspiciously quiet Atalliana finally spoke, “Especially common in royal and noble blood. The three of us for example are quite well versed in spellcraft and combat. We’re quite capable,” 

There was an odd aura to her words. Confidence, most assuredly, but something else too.

“Though we know you’re quite capable as well!” Tyrius followed-up, “The Valmese conflict was certainly a trying one from what we hear. There was a dragon involved, I believe?”

It felt like the gravity in the room had been turned up a notch. Trying to deal with the fallout of the Fell Dragon was difficult enough, trying to explain it all to outsiders was something else entirely.

“Well, let’s just say Vallethea is far from the only country with old magic lurking about,” Robin said, doing his best to answer the inquiry and still dismiss it.

From around the corner of the hall, Sully finally joined them, who wore a smile everyone could tell was completely disingenuous. She had to prepare herself and get ready to join everyone else, and do her best not to appear absolutely livid that these three had come under such suspicious pretenses. Thankfully, she’d become a remarkable actress.

“Sorry everyone,” she apologized as she sat next to her husband, “If I knew we were having company I would’ve been ready to join sooner,”

Asyllus waved his hand, interrupting his sister who was about to speak on their behalf.

“Please, no apologies necessary,” he said kindly, “I’m sure I speak for more than just myself when I say this was hardly a great first introduction. We’re thankful you’ve been so accommodating, considering all of this. You’re under no obligation on our behalf,”

Robin was doing what he always did in a situation like this: studying. Assessing the potential threat. The youngest brother, Tyrius, looked nervous, but he also looked wide-eyed and oddly inconspicuous, especially when paired up against his siblings. He reminded him a lot of Stahl, in that he was far too transparent to be suspicious in any way, which irked him for some reason. Atalliana, the sister, she was interesting. She had a pleasant smile and a pretty face, but there was something else there. She was clearly the one with all the power, even though she had been quieter than the others. Her eyes would scan the rooms they were inside, drifting from person to person, assessing them just as Robin was doing. She was confident, spoke with a real authority when she chose to, but something about her was deeply unsettling. Behind that face was something dark. A caged animal with ferocity. A hunger. Ambition, even. 

Asyllus was the most perplexing of the three, because he was the hardest to read. He, like his sister, was hiding something, but Robin couldn’t discern what. He was easily the best conversationalist, he was direct, casual, but still intelligent and generally speaking quite friendly. This made him inherently more distrustful, but his enthusiasm felt almost… pained. Like he was trying desperately to fight something, a man keeping a storm at bay, so to speak. There were no real red flags here, everyone had their baggage, after all, but Robin knew this was more than just a trade deal. That much was certain.

“That’s very much appreciated. I hope you don’t judge us too hardly, we’re already in the midst of a bit of chaos trying to get back on our feet,” Chrom said, “If we’d been given notice, we could’ve skipped the intimidation and gone straight to pleasantries,”

Chrom was different too, Robin thought. He had changed his demeanor very quickly once they had encountered them in person. His worry wasn’t gone, but it was far more apparent he was putting up a facade. But why? What had changed? Did he know something that Robin didn’t?

“Ah, I almost forgot, since we’re all here we should probably have formal introductions,” Chrom said, clearing his throat afterward.

He pointed over to Robin and Cordelia.

“You’ve already met Grandmaster Robin, presently joined by his wife Cordelia, captain of our pegasus knights,” he said.

Cordelia gave a nod and a polite smile.

“Our two managers of foreign affairs, Lady Maribelle and Lady Tharja, who also serves as our ambassador to Plegia,” he continued.

Tharja and Maribelle raised their glasses to them slightly, both of them looking visibly uncomfortable.

“My personal attendant Sir Frederick and his wife Say’Ri, current ambassador to Chon’Sin,” Chrom went on, “And of course my wife, Sully, and our daughter Princess Lucina, and her partner Noire. Our daughter Princess Kjelle would be here but we believe she’s out with friends tonight and haven’t gotten ahold of her yet,”

Asyllus laughed.

“Don’t rally her in on our account,” he insisted, “We’re delighted to make your acquaintance but the last thing we want to be is an imposition. Enjoy the days you have where you don’t have to get caught up in bureaucracy,” 

Lucina and Noire smiled.

“Understandable, though I think it’s best I be here. We’re family, and while my father is the Exalt, I’m sure he’ll agree the Shepherds are invaluable when it comes to affairs of all kinds,” Lucina said.

“Shepherds?” Tyrius asked.

“Yes,” Robin finally spoke, “A bit of a relic name-wise, back from when the Exalt was the Prince of the Haildom. He had a squadron of his fellow knights and associates who served as a sort of elite vanguard for Ylisse, for which everyone at this table has served. There’s far more of us, but I think this was the best we could round up on short notice,”

“Quite fascinating,” Tyrius said, “So you all must be the heroes so often spoken about regarding the Plegian and Valmese conflicts. Your exploits, even overseas, are legendary,”

He spoke with such an authentic reverence.

“I don’t know about heroes, but we did what we could to help and we’ll always be at Chrom’s side,” Cordelia insisted, “We have all lost a great deal, and fighting to keep what we have left was what had to be done,”

She gave Robin a slight glance, grabbing his hand and squeezing it beneath the table.

“That’s inspiring,” Asyllus said, “You all truly do have a unity about you. I admire it. I hope perhaps our visit can aid you so that this attitude you all have can be followed as an example. Your leadership is nothing to scoff at, as was your sister’s. Believe me, I harbor infinite respect for you and her both, I truly wish everyone in a position of power could follow in your stead,”

Robin didn’t have to think hard about that statement. That wasn’t a vain attempt at flattery. That was genuine. He meant that. However, there was still a sadness there that he spoke with. 

Chrom nodded.

“Nothing would’ve made Em happier than knowing her spirit would inspire others that way,” he said.

After that, the food was hurriedly rushed out to them. The servants were all sweating and scurrying about, placing things along the table in their designated areas. Fruits, roasted chickens, soup, all kinds of things that almost made it look like they had prepared for all of this. All three Valletheans looked pleased to see something truly appetizing in front of them.

Somehow, even the Ylisseans managed to find an appetite. Some of them had been working and running around so much that they had forgotten to eat, and those who hadn’t were attacking the wine to calm their nerves. 

“So… Lucina,” Atalliana spoke, breaking the brief silence as they dined, “You’re the Princess of this Haildom?”

Lucina looked caught slightly off-guard but still continued rather steadily.

“I am,” she said, “But titles are just that. Titles. I go where I’m needed,”

They didn’t know the half of it.

“Well let me extend my respect to you,” she said, “I know a warrior-princess when I see one,” 

Robin definitely saw something in the woman that reminded him of the bluenette princess. A spark of some kind of undying determination in her eyes.

“All the shepherds are every bit the soldier I am,” she said humbly, “Hell even moreso, in some cases. My sister beats me fairly frequently when we spar. We’re all just doing what we have to do to keep the peace,”

“I’m sure,” Atalliana said, “Doing what’s necessary is no small feat. A woman who isn’t afraid to leave a few bodies behind her for a good cause is one worthy of respect,”

There was a coldness with which the princess said the statement that didn’t sit easy with anyone.

“Damn straight,” Sully said, matching Atalliana’s quiet intensity, “That’s an attitude that gets things done. I’d bet you’d make a good sparring partner,”

Robin could tell Sully was leaning into that aspect of her personality just to earn a reaction, trying to do a little probing of her own. No doubt she knew of their family’s reputation due to Chrom.

Atalliana looked Sully’s way.

“No betting necessary. Ask Asyllus. He’s never beaten me,” she said with a satisfied smirk.

“Ever the model of humility, sister,” Asyllus said before he sipped some of his drink.

“Speaking of humility,” Atalliana said, “Lady Sully-”

“Just Sully. Not into titles,” she interrupted.

Atalliana smiled and gave an appreciative nod.

“Sully,” she said, “You’re quite humble yourself, I’d be willing to wager. If I managed to have a daughter Lucina’s age and look as good as you do then I’d be eager to point it out constantly,”

A silence briefly grabbed the room. They had certainly messed up by being so casual with their introductions, as they had no way to explain the circumstances of their children’s presence, and had already let the cat out of the bag so to speak. Atalliana had to know something was up, her comment couldn’t have been genuine, she wasn’t a fool. She knew everyone there was the same age. They had never discussed how they’d handle this just because they’d said it was for the best to keep it a vague secret from the world, just because the truth was far too complicated and far too difficult to swallow.

Atalliana’s two brothers looked at everyone, and it had apparently gone over their heads as well when it came to the age disparity. Now that it had been pointed out, both of them looked curious. 

“We aren’t from here,” Lucina said plainly.

Everyone looked straight at her, no one protesting but everyone eager to see if she would manage to come up with a convincing enough lie.

“Sorry?” Atalliana asked, genuinely curious more than probing from the sound of it, “I thought you said-”

“By chance, are you familiar with the stories of an old God, the Fell Dragon Grima?” she asked.

No one quite expected her to just go straight to the truth. 

“Lucina I-” 

“Chrom,” Robin interrupted, looking his friend in the eye, “Let her tell them,”

Everyone’s eyes went straight to Robin, some of the stares holding vaguely hostile intent. There was nothing inherently wrong with divulging these details, it was just never something they’d done before. 

But Robin wasn’t encouraging this without a reason. Thankfully, Chrom saw that in his eyes. He nodded, and looked back at Lucina, who was taken aback at how the wine had seemingly loosened her tongue so much. She became hesitant. Noire held her hand under the table to encourage her.

“Continue, Lucina, it’s alright,” Chrom assured her.

The three royal children looked utterly confused. If only they knew.

“Myself, Noire, and the other children many of the Shepherds are from another world. A world where the Fell Dragon triumphed and conquered this country, one where we saw our parents and many loved ones die. Through some… old magic of our own, we escaped to this world, one that had not yet been ravaged by Grima. We came to aid our parents and save this world,” she explained trying to sound as coherent as possible.

Another silence ensued. All three of them looked stunned. Chrom briefly averted his gaze back to Robin, who gave him an assuring nod.

“Gods be damned… are you… you’re not joking, are you?” Tyrius asked, mystified.

Atalliana nearly giggled, whereas Asyllus couldn’t decide between a gasp and nervous laughter. The shepherds just stared on, nervously.

“Every word is true,” Lucina assured them, “We’ve fought long and hard to get where we are today. Peace did not come at a small cost to us,”

Atalliana’s face softened a bit for the first time, and Robin picked up on the woman’s first genuine display of emotion. Something about this got to her. Asyllus, however, remained stunned, whereas Tyrius remained somewhere in the middle. 

“I must admit… I did not expect to be so enamored with you all so immediately,” Asyllus said, “I feel like I have hundreds of questions but I would be overstepping my bounds and trying your patience if I asked any of them. Surely you must be enjoying your long-fought-for victory then, right?”

Lucina briefly eyed Noire, and looked back at the Prince.

“Yes, very much so,” she said, “I’m proud to have helped end everything my father and aunt worked so hard to see put to rest. But we owe a great deal to everyone in this country who has helped us,”

She raised a glass.

“To an ever-expanding alliance,” she said.

Everyone, the Valletheans included, raised their glass in accordance with her, and they all repeated her words.

Robin eyed the three children, taking specific note that the Princess seemed to look quite lost in her own thoughts as she mumbled Lucina’s toast.

* * *

All things considered, the meal had gone well. Better than ‘well’- they seemed to be handling this all rather stupendously, and the Valletheans seemed to be amicable enough. They had let slip a hell of a revelation, but it wasn’t exposing a weakness of theirs, and even if it was, no one was sure if the weakness would be taken advantage of.

Once everyone had finished and cleared out the rooms, Asyllus, Tyrius, and Atalliana were escorted to the guest portion of the palace and given their rooms, three large separate guest rooms in the same hallway, all of them very grateful and eager to rest somewhere that wasn’t rocking back and forth. Everyone was conducting business and discussing relevant information, and that was regrettably when Sully had to excuse herself.

She had struggled with her image as the wife of the Exalt from day one, but it was a title she wore proudly and made her own. She never shied away from the dirty work or the work that someone like her would never think to indulge in, mainly that of diplomacy. She hated that she felt like she couldn’t do a whole lot, mainly because the work was being evenly distributed, but also because she felt helpless. Something about all of this felt  _ wrong  _ and she didn’t know why, and she wasn’t the only one who thought that. They would have greatly benefited from a solid trade deal, so many hardworking working-class citizens depended on their rebuilding, and doing it quicker would’ve meant good things for everyone. She wanted to cast aside her doubt, and just take what they were saying at face value, but she couldn’t fully. 

She overlooked the courtyard on the balcony outside their bedroom, slightly inebriated but mostly coherent. This was just a business deal, right?

But the people they were doing business with, their father knew Chrom’s father. Chrom’s parentage being something that took him a while to open up to her about, and when he did, she finally understood why. She had always perceived him as a stern man, but never a cruel one, until she got older. She had just never known the true extent of that cruelty. The abuse that Emmeryn had sheltered Lissa and Chrom from, the political nightmare his cabinet had been, and the subsequent ousting of half of the Ylissean nobles when they voiced a dissenting opinion. If these children served a man who was anything like Chrom’s father, there was something terrifying here that would need to be dealt with.

“You okay?” a melodious voice rang out.

Behind her approached Cordelia, of all people, who walked up and stood next to her, also leaning on the edge of the balcony. Before they had never really been close despite knowing each other in their youth, and Cordelia’s known earlier infatuation with her husband didn’t make her eager at first, but as the wives of two of the most important men in the country, and as great warriors of renown in their own right, they quickly confided in each other quite frequently.

“As okay as I can be,” she answered unsurely, “This whole thing is… weird,”

“I’ll say,” Cordelia agreed, “You trust those three?”

“Not as far as I could throw them,” Sully muttered.

“You’ve got a hell of an arm Sully, that’s pretty far,” Cordelia joked.

Both women laughed.

“I don’t even really have a definitive reason,” Sully said, “This whole thing just feels rotten. I don’t know what their angle is… or even if they have one. That princess is a spitfire for sure but none of them  _ seem  _ bad, I guess,”

“All the more reason to distrust them,” Cordelia sadly mused.

“Doesn’t that just suck?” Sully asked, gaze narrowing at the sky as she rambled, “We come so far to get where we’re at and we can’t even trust people that offer to help us. What kind of world is this?”

“We don’t know if all they want is help,” Cordelia said, “My guess is that they’ll want some kind of tenuous alliance of sorts. Robin said the Valletheans have cooled it on the conflict in recent years, but there’s civil unrest and more than a few countries that they’ve pissed off over the years,”

“Should we do it, if they offered?” Sully asked.

Cordelia shrugged.

“We don’t have enough details. I don’t know. Probably not. We’ve got a good military force but Chrom wants to disband the military once the rebuilding is finished. We want to live in a world where that’s something we don’t need,” Cordelia sighed.

“Maybe we were being too idealistic. There’s always another threat. But I agree, I don’t want to latch onto these guy’s baggage, if that’s what it comes to. They’re powerful, but they don’t need us, surely if we turn them down it won’t be a big deal, right?”

Cordelia still had no idea. For once, she just wanted something to be what it seemed. Something easy.

“If it’s a solid deal, I’m gonna vote we take it. If it’s anything more than that, then I say we stay far away,” Cordelia said, “I doubt Robin or Chrom will see it differently,”

Sully sighed.

“You never know with those two. You’d think with your egg-head husband and my half-brained one that they’d be able to find a way to make this easier,”

Cordelia snorted.

“We can only hope,”

* * *

  
  


Chrom and Robin met in the kitchen once everyone was gone, both of them exhausted purely from worry. Robin worried some of the nervous sweat had soaked through his clothing, whereas Chrom’s sword hand kept involuntarily twitching. 

“Just out of curiosity, where were Lissa and Lon’qu?” Robin asked to start.

“Went with the messengers to Regna Ferox to fetch one of the khans. Figured it was a good idea to keep Lissa at a safe distance in case anything happened to us,” he said.

A smart move, probably a little too careful for their own good, but nonetheless smart.

“Well, we’re in one piece. If this was an assassination attempt then they did a pretty piss-poor job,” Robin said, “Though I can’t say I’m totally sold on this whole thing,”

Chrom shook his head.

“Nor am I,” he said quietly.

Robin took a few steps towards Chrom, who was currently leaning over the table in the center of the room, propping himself up with his arms.

“You sure managed to take all of that well for being so skeptical,” Robin said, “Is there something on your mind?”

Robin had only seen this look on his friend’s face one other time as long as he had known him. It was the night Validar first attempted to assassinate Emmeryn, when Chrom had told him everything about the predicament they had found themselves in, right before Lucina had showed up.

“Robin, you remember what I told you about my father, correct?” he asked.

Robin nodded.

“Yes. He was a man who didn’t exactly possess the moral fiber Emmeryn and you did. He drew out the Plegian conflict and stirred unrest throughout his rule,”

Chrom’s expression was one of pained emotion, he held it back, but the struggle on his face was evident.

“I perhaps… undersold his cruelty,” he said, “He was not a good man. Nor was he a particularly good father. Lissa was too young to remember it, but I… wasn’t,”

Robin had to let that sink in. When Chrom told him things of this nature, it was the look on the man’s face that gave him the imperative details. He probably couldn’t bring himself to say it, but his eyes spoke for him. Robin always figured his father was a sore spot for Chrom, so he never pressed the issue, but now he fully knew why. It was painful to recount an experience like that. It briefly made him grateful for the fact that his amnesia hadn’t gotten better, as he was certain he had less than savory memories of his own father. He could feel that, in the back of his head, and wanted it to stay as nothing more than an intangible feeling. 

He approached his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. They had both come from backgrounds of cruelty that they felt they couldn’t entirely escape.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to-”

“That part is less important,” Chrom briefly interrupted, “What is important is that Vallethea’s king, Andromedus, he and my father were close. They shared very similar ideas about ruling and strength, but once they had each gotten ahold of their own empires, they had too much to deal with and were too far away to have convened all that much. The only thing that ceased my father’s war-mongering was his untimely death-”

“And you can’t quite exactly imagine King Andromedus’s attitude changing, which makes you wary, I gather?” he finished.

Chrom nodded, and made his way to the icebox, grabbing a small, chilled elixir and a carton of juice. Robin recognized it, it was a basic sleeping aid, and Chrom had poured it into a cup alongside the juice to make it go down easier. He couldn’t blame him, he’d likely have trouble sleeping too.

“Pretty much, yeah,” Chrom sighed as he took a drink, “They obviously didn’t make it clear, but I can’t imagine his children aren’t cut from the same cloth. I had Emmeryn around to teach me right from wrong, and I don’t like to make assumptions, but if they’re anything like their father? This worries me greatly. I don’t wish to involve this place with someone who will allow us to regress and erase all the progress Emmeryn died to kickstart,”

He had a great point. The country was back on track, and even without Vallethean aid, they’d get to the finish line eventually. If any of this felt shady, in the slightest, they would have to refuse, which was a complete ordeal in and of itself. 

“It’s very understandable… your frustration, I mean,” Robin said, “I promise, I’ll spearhead everything when it comes to this deal. It will have my full and undivided attention, and if anything sticks out to me, you’ll know. I will not let us get swindled by a group of would-be tyrants,”

Chrom allowed himself the smallest of smiles.

“Thank you,” he said, “I knew I could count on you… and speaking of all that, what’s your take on those three?”

Robin mulled over his thoughts from dinner.

“Nothing immediately frightening, even if that magic they can use puts me on edge, but I can’t say they fully won me over. Tyrius seems like a nice guy, but he’s clearly not holding the cards like his siblings. Atalliana might be the most worrisome, the portrait you painted of your father and their father by extension seems to feel prominent with her. She’s holding something back, that’s for certain. And Asyllus…”

He paused, Chrom looking at him expectantly.

“Asyllus seems to be friendly enough, but there’s something about him that doesn’t sit right with me. He spoke the most, but I never got the sense he was in control. He’s… covering for something. He makes me nervous,”

Chrom chuckled.

“He reminds me a lot of you, come to think of it,” he said.

Robin found it difficult not to take at least some offense to that.

“Beg pardon?” he asked, his voice raising an unintentional octave.

“I mean in the sense that he knows his way around words and diplomacy. I agree with you, there’s something he isn’t telling us, but there’s an authenticity to him that can’t help but show. Like you,” he said, gesturing towards him.

Robin shrugged.

“I’ll just try and take the compliment,” he said, “Now go off to bed and rest. You and Sully will need it. I’ll make sure everything is alright with Maribelle and Tharja and take care of anything else,”

Chrom exhaled.

“You are far too kind to me,” he said, “If it’s not too much trouble I’d appreciate that. But please don’t wear yourself out, I’m going to need you for this next week and I can’t have you not taking care of yourself properly,”

Even though it was a stressful situation, Robin felt a wistful nostalgia regarding it all. Being depended on by those around him was his favorite feeling. He wanted to be a pillar of support for everyone, his family and friends especially. 

“I will,” he assured him, patting him on the back, “Now get to bed, lest Sully find you in here, you’ll get yourself dragged back to your bedroom,”

“Goodnight friend,” he said, “I’m infinitely grateful for your support,”

* * *

  
  


Robin was exhausted coming home. He’d grabbed his horse and come back in the dead of night, Cordelia had left a few hours prior to check on Severa and see if Morgan had arrived home safe, so when he came back from the stable, he didn’t expect to see his wife sitting on the wooden swing they had out on their porch.

She looked relieved to see him, but her superimposed look of worry wasn’t going to vacate her any time soon. If nothing else, her mind didn’t have to worry about the infinite possibilities that it had conjured up earlier with his sudden departure… now it was just a few things that plagued her mind. Perspective was important.

He joined her on the swing, wordlessly greeting her, draping his arm over her shoulder and allowing her head to rest on his. She gave a sharp exhale, and closed her eyes.

“Everything copasetic?” she asked.

“As far as I can tell, yes,” he said, “Maribelle and Tharja got a headstart on paperwork, so thankfully the business end of all this won’t be too bad. Tomorrow it looks like we’ll be showing them around the capital, trying to make nice. You know how it is,”

“Gods I do not miss diplomacy in the slightest,” she said, “Do you think everything is going to go okay? The Valletheans are… well I don’t know. Sully and I didn’t know what to make of them,”

“Chrom and I couldn’t make heads or tails of them either, to be frank. Seems to be universal. I’m contemplating having someone follow them for the duration of their stay. Somebody who can stay hidden, keep an eye on them,” he said, the idea being tossed around in his head as he rode home.

“My money would be on Gaius for that,” Cordelia suggested, “He knows what he’s doing. Offer him something from Chrom’s confectionary and he’ll probably give you a written transcript of everything he hears them say,”

Robin gave an amused chuckle.

“I’ll look into that,” he said, fully intending to, “However I’ve got something else on the mind, how’re you? I’m sorry I had to go so suddenly, I know that must’ve been hard,”

She gave a weak nod.

“I understand, but it did frighten me. And Severa, for that matter. I’m a bit better now… especially since you’re here,” she answered.

“How’re the girls? Morgan get home okay?” Robin asked.

She nodded.

“Actually saw Morgan outside the palace when I left. Apparently they saw the vessel in the harbor and made their way to the dock. They heard about what happened and made their way over, but Chrom had ordered the guards not to let anyone in once the dinner began. They just sat outside on the steps for a few hours waiting to hear something. Inigo is sleeping on our couch, by the way,” she said.

“Oh? How come?” he asked.

“They were both worried so I told them both to come home with me so I could make them some tea. We live closer than Olivia and Kellam, I just sent them a message saying he and Morgan were tired and decided to rest here. They passed out almost immediately when we got home,” Cordelia said, yawning.

“Severa taking it well?” he asked.

“Better than I expected, though she’s very transparently worried about us. I don’t blame her. I would be concerned too, even without her history,”

That was to be expected. Severa’s more abrasive tendencies stemmed from what else, but her horrible fear of losing that which she cared about the most, seeing as it had already been taken from her once. 

“I’m worried too, Robin,” Cordelia said softly.

He pulled her in a bit tighter, kissing her on the cheek.

“As far as we know, this could be nothing but politics. There will not be another war, I will do everything in my power to make sure of that. Even if the deal doesn’t go well, I’m hard-pressed to think of any logical reason they’d have to not keep peace with us,” he said.

“Even you can’t work miracles, love. Some things are inevitable… and war is never logical,” she said mournfully.

Robin felt a bit wounded. He knew her words came from a truthful place, but he wanted to dissuade those feelings. Truly, despite everything that happened, he couldn’t imagine this somehow spinning into some grand conflict.

“I’ll still do everything I can. We will do everything we can, all of us,” he said, trying to reassure her.

“I know you will,” she said with a half-smile, “And war does sound like a distant prospect… it’s just… you know, I know how Severa feels,”

“How so?” Robin inquired.

“I lost my family once already,” she said, sounding hollow, “I watched my sisters die. I don’t know if I could bear that again, it’s why I fought so hard for you and Chrom. I know I’m far from the only one who's lost something… but I love you. I love the girls. I can’t… ugh. I just can’t. I don’t mean to place pressure on you, but even if the possibility is slim, I refuse to believe we could lose anything more when we’ve fought this hard to keep it,”

Robin understood. His entire life as he knew it had been Ylisse’s complicated history of war and bloodshed. He was a Plegian by blood, but he knew no allegiance to anyone but Chrom, fighting not for Ylisse’s victory, but for the elimination of conflict itself. His ties were irrelevant, and considering his parentage and demigod blood in his veins, they were eager to be forgotten. He wanted a world where borders meant nothing, where your place of birth meant nothing, where life itself and the comfort of living it was held above all else. They had successfully begun the path to a potential utopia, the only reason they hadn’t fully rebuilt was that Robin came up with the idea of wealth redistribution for the working-class people of the alliance. They were so close to finally achieving that goal, so that no Ylissean family would ever grow hungry again, and that would extend to Plegia, to Ferox, and so on and so on and so forth. 

He couldn’t let that progress be destroyed, and more importantly, he couldn’t let his family, the reason he did all of this to begin with, to suffer any more. The pictures of all the Shepherds, of Cordelia, of Severa, of Morgan, they all flashed in his mind. Images he held onto intimately.

“I understand, Cordy,” he said softly, “I promise you though, whatever extreme I’m forced to go to with all of this to avoid bloodshed, I’ll do it,”

“Thank you,” she whispered, “We should get some sleep now. I don’t want you too tired this week,”

“A good idea,” he responded, “But if you don’t mind, can we sit out here for a few minutes? It’s too nice a of a night to waste,”

Cordelia didn’t object, and the couple both closed their eyes tightly, holding onto one another as the night breeze lightly danced across their faces. The sounds of the nighttime countryside, forest ambience and the hum of crickets, it covered them like a quilt. A brief bit of refuge amidst the confusion.

* * *

  
  


Maribelle was absolutely defeated from how busy her day was. Having to drag herself to the palace was more than off-putting, and being in the presence of all that noble posturing was the icing on the cake. Even acts of kindness were just political transactions.

_ A good meal? That means we’re plentiful enough to provide good food. A tour around the palace? A showcase of the remnants from the eras of noble opulence. Kind words? Nothing more than expressions of comfortability, a way of saying that they’re well-off enough to speak with such kindness. _

It was all such a tiresome bluff that was quite common with deals like this, which thankfully weren’t conducted often. She had thought the Khans to be a bit brutish for her liking at first, but now greatly appreciated their straightforward way of doing business. There was never any bullshit, no games.

If she didn’t have to work an exorbitant amount tomorrow, she would have cracked open the sherry in her desk cabinet. But arriving home did yield something that eased her troubled mind, and it had nothing to do with substances of any kind.

Nah.

Once she arrived home, Nah was sitting in the living room couch, her nose stuck into a book. She was so absorbed by it she hardly noticed the blonde walk in. 

“Nah? Goodness darling what are you doing here so late?” Maribelle asked, voice higher-pitched and courting genuine worry.

Nah sat up straight and revealed a meek smile.

“Dad mentioned what was happening over in town. Said Tharja had come to him for an ingredient for a potion she was brewing, told him everything about it. Figured maybe a familiar face would be nice to see once you got back,” she said confidently.

Maribelle’s cheeks warmed. This girl truly was something special.

She made her way over to the large couch, sitting next to the white-haired Manakete.

“I do greatly appreciate it,” she said, “Though- and I hate to disappoint- if you were thinking of helping me relieve my accumulated stress this evening, I appreciate that too, but I am far too tired. I think I’d be too tired if today was normal, considering last night,”

Nah kept her smile.

“Not to mention this morning in the shower,” Nah said mischievously, “But that’s okay. I figured as much. I just wanted to stop by and see if you needed anything,”

Maribelle felt like the girl was so sweet she was going to get a cavity. Neither one of them had any real experience in being in committed relationships, so there was some hesitance from both parties in regards to how their situation would work.

“It’s very late dear,” she said with a sad smile, holding onto Nah’s delicate hand and lying down on the couch, perpendicular to the other girl. 

She sighed as she placed her head in Nah’s lap, looking up at her face as it lovingly gazed back down. 

“What exactly did you tell your parents? Or were you naughty enough to sneak out again?” Maribelle hummed.

“Actually I told them you had hired me to assist you with paperwork because of the deal. Said you had a lot of work on your plate and that you told me you needed an intern, so I said I’d be pulling an all-nighter,” she answered.

Gods, she was a clever one. A perfect little excuse.

“That’s… ugh,” Maribelle couldn’t find the right words, “I love you so very much,”

She said it with such emotive enthusiasm both girls couldn’t help but laugh. Once it subsided, Nah leaned to kiss her girlfriend on the lips, letting the kiss linger. 

“I love you too,” she said, “And that offer is legitimate, by the way. If I can help you, even if it’s menial labor, I’d love to help. I told my parents I’d be staying here for the rest of the week, so I figured I could do some good. I can also read to you, if you like,”

She held up her book, and Maribelle let out a content exhale.

“Nah I may have to take you up on that, half because I will need help, and half because I just want to relish keeping your company,” she said, “In addition, while I am tired tonight, that doesn’t eliminate the many long days of work I have ahead of me where inevitably, some stress will indeed need to be relieved… and I am very keen on hearing your sweet voice read to me one of these nights,”

She winked at Nah, who giggled.

“Whatever you want, Belle,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

She felt a chill go down her spine with that nickname. It sounded so beautiful coming from her lips.

“What I want, right now, is to have a long, beautiful night’s sleep next to the woman I love. How does that sound?” she rhetorically posed.

Nah nodded with enthusiasm, and then leaned back down to kiss her once again, this time with a bit more passion. Maribelle hummed into the kiss, it was exactly the sensation she needed to feel after a hard day’s work.

She grinned.

“Well, I suppose you’ve lured me into a trap. I suddenly find myself awake enough to indulge in some quality time before we sleep, if you’re up for it,” she offered.

Maribelle sat up and then stood, outstretching her hand towards the girl, ready to take her upstairs.

“After sex sleep is always best with you. How could I turn that down?” she said sweetly.

Just as they had the night before, Maribelle led her back to her bedroom, and the two engaged in lovemaking that was far more gentle than last night, but nonetheless led them to a wonderful night’s sleep.

* * *

  
  


Tharja had to profusely apologize to Gaius since the emergency meeting and following dinner had barred her from getting Cynthia’s potion on time. It was ready, but the timing and priority of the situation couldn’t make it work. It was late, but not late enough to where Cynthia was in torment waiting for it. Gaius thanked her immensely, and when she refused payment on account of it being a favor and a late delivery, he slipped a few coins into her pocket as she left.

A few hours passed, and Gaius and Sumia were peeking into their daughter’s room every so often to make sure she was still asleep and not having nightmares. As they peered at her for the tenth time that evening and found her sound asleep, both of the tired parents were convinced that whatever she had taken did it’s job.

Tharja, in explaining her predicament, had told Gaius about the developments of what happened with Vallethea. He then relayed the information to his wife, and that currently occupied both of their minds as they arrived back in their own bed.

“You think this’ll end well?” Gaius asked Sumia.

“Why? Do you think it won’t?” she asked, worriedly.

“No, no, I’m just asking your opinion. Seems to me like a big misunderstanding that’ll yield a buncha politics and what not. Would be nice if the surprise here was that this all turned out to be rather boring,” he said.

Sumia shrugged.

“No clue, I’m way too behind on current events and too unengaged with politics to have a worthwhile answer, I just know it makes me nervous… not a fan of that, considering I’m already nervous,” she said, glancing in the direction of Cynthia’s room.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in as he laid down next to her, “We’ve got all the smartest and bravest people in the haildom on this. We’ll be fine. Cynthia will be fine too, we’re already making progress and it’s been a day. She’s a tough girl too, got a lot of her momma in her,”

Sumia smiled.

“You really do know just what to say,” she said, “I just want the best for her. She doesn’t deserve this, especially not with what she’s been through. Those kids… they’ve seen too much death,”

Gaius nodded.

“Which is why we’re here. We’ll take her to see someone, maybe I’ll talk to her friends about getting her out of the house a bit more when she’s up to it. We just gotta play the long game,”

“I just can’t help but feel like we failed her. Both in her original timeline and our own,” she said, her voice distant-sounding and cold.

“Trying to lay undeserved blame is pointless,” Gaius said, not sounding stern but still making his point clear, “Mincing about what could have been doesn’t help her. That’s all we have to do. Look forward. Move forward,”

“You’re right,” she said, “I just worry, that’s all. To think she’s fought all this time, for so long, and even helped save us all… the world truly is cruel,”

Gaius kissed her, stopping her worrying dead in its tracks.

“It is, but that’s why people exist. Even out the cruelty. People like you, and people like her, you’re the best of the best. Bright, sunny, joyful folks who the rest of us don’t deserve. Which is precisely why we’ll be so thankful the day Cynthia can move on, whenever that is,”

Gaius spoke so strangely, a poet one sentence and a thief the next, but she couldn’t deny it.

“You’re the best of the best too, you goofball,” Sumia teased, but still meant with every fiber of her being.

Gaius gave a light shrug pulling his wife in as they prepared to drift off.

“I’d fight you on that normally. But I love ya, so I’ll bite and take the compliment,”

With that, another pair of worried parents drifted off to sleep, trying to carry their optimism with them into the land of dreams.

* * *

Tyrius already couldn’t sleep, and when he began to hear muffled noises coming from Atalliana’s room, he knew sleep was that much more unattainable. He’d rested well on the journey, but after meeting with the Ylissean nobles, he was nervous beyond any reasonable measure. They’d all been escorted to their rooms at the same time, so he couldn’t get a word in with Asyllus without Atalliana noticing. The doors here were loud, and he didn’t want to risk her being aware of them conspiring behind her back. To boot, against his better judgment, he found himself liking these people. It was a first impression and nothing more, but they clearly went through so much to arrive at the position they found themselves in. That was what grinded against his nerves, he couldn’t let kind souls like this succumb to the treachery of their homeland. Even if they had this trade deal go off without a hitch, it was just to lure them into potentially fighting another cataclysmic war against a nation they had no history with. It wasn’t right.

The noises from her room grew louder, but then actively softer, as if they were conscious of how thin the walls were between rooms. Tyrius stood up, walking over to the wall, and pressed his ear against it to discern what exactly it was that was irking him so much. Just as he had expected, once he closed in and focused, he could clearly hear voices. Not just his sister’s voice either, but the voice of their father. She was using looking glass magic to contact him and update him, which was of little surprise to him. He could practically see the disembodied floating portrait of their father’s stern gaze surrounded by wisps of magic outlining the image out in front of his sister. The act itself was of no surprise to him, but the words being said certainly were. 

“-father I think we have to consider the advantage of patience,” Atalliana said, her voice sounding as vulnerable as it was capable of sounding, “They may be compromised because of the war but they still seem to have a strong foundation. If we were able to build a relationship with them, I think depending on them would be in our best interest. They seem susceptible to that approach,”

Their father sighed. It immediately conjured up a vivid image of his cold demeanor and sharp golden-eyed stare. His blonde-haired visage and strong jaw made him look like a parody of Vallethean royalty.

“You aren’t incorrect, Liana,” their father disappointedly mused, “But I expected as much. We are not in the business of waiting it out- my patience has already run quite thin with our domestic affairs. In order to be seen as worthwhile that trade deal will have to favor them heavily, and if I was going to buy their loyalty, I would just do this myself,”

Atalliana huffed.

“I understand, but therein lies the issue. Chrom, his advisors, they’re all too… amicable. Pleasant even, pride themselves on being understanding and all that shit. I haven’t a single solitary idea of how to instigate conflict or incite discord. The Exalt doesn’t seem dim, but even if he was, he’s got a legion of pals who could probably give Asyllus a run for his money in chess,”

“Atalliana, I informed you of my expectations of you for this mission before you left, did I not? I gave you ample time to come up with a plan on the journey there, and you’re telling me you have nothing? Are you being lazy, dull-witted, or just deliberately disobeying me?” their father posed, anger underlying every word.

“Yes father. You informed me,” she muttered, “I have thought-”

“I do not want ‘thought’ from you. The time for ‘thought’ has long since passed. I want action. Or are you incapable of that? Have I overestimated your capabilities? Must I hold your hand like a child to guide you along the way?” he rhetorically posed.

As much as Tyrius had grown to distrust and feel disconnected from his sister, he hated how his father spoke to her. It was the way he used to speak to Asyllus until he found it to be a lost cause. Condescension. Anger. No sense of empathy or understanding. 

“No,” she said plainly, clearing fighting back some emotion, “You do not,”

She almost sounded like a child. A child being scolded in front of their friends.

“Then tell me, Atalliana. Tell me what you’re going to do right now. Either tell me, or go off and make nice with those peace-keeping charlatans and come back to me as a disappointment even your brother couldn’t match. Let those hypocrites usurp the land that my brethren acquired through bloodshed and war and pretend like they’re better because they didn’t have to make the tough choices. Let them take our money and our resources, by all means, so we can tentatively call them our comrades and send them baskets of fruit to make sure they’ll come to our aid against Dratalia,”

The embittered words of a man whose warped perception had led to atrocities and war being concepts vital to his worldview. He simply didn’t understand anything else.

“I won’t let that happen father,” she said, determined, “I think I have an idea,”

There was hesitation in her voice. She spoke almost as if she was reluctant, like she’d thought of a plan earlier but didn’t want to execute it. Now that she was backed into a corner, whatever hypotheticals she had conjured would have to become a reality in order for her to succeed.

“Alright. So?” he asked expectantly.

She cleared her throat quietly, and lowered her voice to speak. It was still audible to Tyrius, but he had to listen carefully to make out each word.

“We’ll lure them into a false sense of security. We’ll be friendly with them, we’ll let them kiss our asses, and once the deal has gone through, before we leave, I’ll… I’ll frame them,”

A pause.

“Frame them?” her father asked curious.

“Yes,” she said, this time a bit more bold, “I’ll frame them for Asyllus’s murder,”

Tyrius’s hand reflexively covered his mouth to stifle a gasp. His eyes stung. He could hardly believe his sister, as cruel as she was, was actually saying this. Surely she was joking, right? Asyllus had warned him it may come to that, but it was hypothetical. Superlative. He was just accounting for possibility, surely. No way their father would go with that. 

“And how will you go about that?” he asked casually.

She swallowed.

“I’ll learn about the Ylisseans, gain their trust, and figure out a way to make it convincing. I’ll find someone who doesn’t like us, or isn’t keen on the deal, and I’ll kill him with their weapon or in a fashion that would reflect on them. I’ve been pleasant to both Tyrius and Asyllus, so the possibility of me being responsible will be out of the question,” she said, “It’ll be two birds with one stone… Asyllus will be out of the picture and he won’t be around any longer to cause trouble for us. Even if they apprehend whoever they believe to be responsible, it will not be enough to console my feigned outrage. It will be an act of war, and our few overseas allies we’ve accrued will surely come to our aid and sweeten the deal,”

Another long, quiet pause ensued.

“And you’re prepared to do it? To take Asyllus’s life for this?”

“Yes,” she said emphatically, “He has been a thorn in our side for too long, we can’t let him sow dissent any longer. He is a nuisance and he has to be dealt with in one way or another,”

He chuckled.

“That’s my girl,” he said, elevating his frigid tone to being slightly warm, “Willing to make an honorable but necessary sacrifice. The actions of a leader. Actions that, if executed properly, will make the aristocracy and myself fond of your resolve,”

“Of course, father,” she insisted, “I will not let you down,”

“Get some rest, Liana,” he said, “You have a busy week ahead of you and I want you in prime shape. Do not disappoint me,”

The sound of the spell dematerializing and vanishing could be heard, as could the sound of the princess sitting on the bed, wood creaking as weight was applied to it.

Tyrius wanted to scream. He had truly held out until the last possible second with her, figuring even she had a baseline for morality that would guide her in the right direction when the chips were down. He was prepared to fight for this, to talk sense into her even, but this? This was something that transcended expectations. This was his family, the people he loved and who supposedly loved him back. Asyllus was right, he had been too naive. They had only treated him well because he was never a problem in the way Asyllus was. He fell in line. It had nothing to do with love. There was no ‘deep down’- his father and sister were just rotten to the core.

His head raced with a menagerie of unpleasant thoughts, thoughts that were interrupted by another muffled sound.

He hesitantly brought his ear back to the wall, and didn’t hear what he expected to hear. Not words or a conversation, not the sound of someone stirring in their room, but small, strained cries of what sounded like pain.

Atalliana was crying.

This was providing him with a level of whiplash he didn’t anticipate. She wasn’t just crying either, it devolved into sobbing, obscured only by the fact that she was likely doing it into a pillow. The sound ached, it moved something inside Tyrius. He had never heard her cry. In many ways, even before this night, he simply considered her the type to not be capable of it. She was always so stalwart.

Gods be damned. Maybe… maybe she wasn’t a monster after all. She felt some kind of remorse… for some reason. He wasn’t sure why this would eat at her, as she hadn’t openly displayed anything besides hostility in her brother’s direction. Killing him, from her perspective, would’ve been in keeping with her character. Was it just a visceral reaction? Maybe she harbored love for him somewhere inside her still. But her loyalty, her ambition, her father’s instilled values were stronger.

Perhaps she wept because she was helpless. Helpless to the fact that she knew this was coming. That their father would eventually dispose of Asyllus, and potentially use her to do so. He wasn’t easy to get along with by any means, but her front with him may have been a coping mechanism. Maybe she always knew this day would come, and had to toughen herself for it. 

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking. Tyrius didn’t know anymore.

He’d have to tell his brother tomorrow, but he was worried the lengths Asyllus would go to in order to protect his life. It was likely that no matter how this played out, when they left, they’d leave with one less sibling. He knew Atalliana was in the wrong, that he wouldn’t break his promise to his brother to see this through, but he didn’t want to. 

He sat on the floor, utterly dumbfounded, his siblings on either side of his room emanating a presence that felt like it was going to crush him. 

_ To the end _ , he had promised. But to what end? 

He did not want to be here. He did not want his family to collapse, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like was emblematic of their homeland. Something that had no chance of salvation for a very long time, and his sobering realization that he couldn’t save either was one that rattled him to his core.

As he listened to his sister at her most weak and helpless, it infected him, and he too began to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the thing I alluded to working on in some of my other notes, and I'm going to *try* making this at least a weekly thing since these chapters are looooong. I've got the whole thing outlined and this has proven to be very fun to write. Feedback is always appreciated and I hope that it may prove beneficial in the long haul since I'm nearly finished with Chapter 2 and we're already nearing novel-length. I also just thought it would be fun to write a de-facto prequel to the original novel I just wrote in the form of a Fire Emblem crossover, hence the antagonists. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy!


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